The Tale of Murder Manor
by Reyson129
Summary: What would happen if the main cast of Apollo Justice met case 2-4? My answer: a murder victim that no one ever expected, and a game they had to win at all costs...
1. Chapter 1

(This is an AU fic, in regards to Kristoph. In this universe, he didn't get Phoenix disbarred (someone else did, it doesn't matter who, this has no relevance to the story, pretend it was Winston Payne or something :3) and as a result, 4-4 never happened. 4-1 did, but differently (you'll see :D). This story is born out of a wild thought I once had: what would 2-4 be like, with the characters of AJ? This story is my answer, except it turned out a lot more complex than I originally planned. Also, I am fully prepared for the inevitable lynching that my choice of murder victim will cause. I have been warned.)

The real story begins in chapter 2. This is just an intro that got a little too long, so I made it a chapter in itself. Please stick around for chapter 2!

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**Chapter 1**

Apollo never in a million years expected to win his first trial in such a way. He did expect to win it. After all, Phoenix Wright himself was the defendant, and there was no way _he _could kill. And Apollo believed that no matter what, the truth always comes out in the end. So he did expect a 'not guilty.' No, it was the _way_ it happened that surprised him. He thought back to it.

Payne was glaring across at him, the very picture of incompetence. Mr Gavin was at his side, ready to jump in and save him if he absolutely needed it. The judge, in all his beardy glory, looked down upon them all, gavel in hand. Phoenix Wright, having just presented the possibility of a fourth person, sat patiently in the defendant's chair. And Ms Orly, having just revealed herself as the dealer in the fateful game, was valiantly trying to prove her case.

"Ms Orly, you're lying to me!" _Damn, _pointing felt good sometimes.

"W-wait! I see through your tricks! It'll take more than that to accuse me, Olga 'Quick-Fin-"

"When the witness is quite finished." The calm, collected voice of Kristoph Gavin interrupted the frantic yelling of the witness. 'Your Honor, I believe it is plainly obvious for the court to see who the true culprit is here.'

"That's right!" Apollo carried on. "Her motive can be established easily! She-"

"OBJECTION!" The horrifically whiny voice of Payne rang out, and everyone in the court cringed. "That's as far as you go, rookie. What was it your mentor said, right at the beginning of this trial? 'A defense attorney must always cede to his client's wishes,' was it?"

"You are correct, Prosecutor Payne." Apollo could almost swear to the hidden 'for once' at the end.

"I think I see where Winston's going here." Phoenix stood up, and spoke directly to Apollo. "He's talking about the possibility of a fourth person. I would suggest not jumping to conclusions about Ms Orly here before you've fully considered what that could mean."

"What do you mean, Mr Wright? No-one else was there the night of the crime! Ms Orly is the only person, apart from you, who could have done it."

"The one who swapped the cards was the killer, right? All three people in the room knew that the red cards were being used. But there was someone" – here Phoenix glanced at everyone in the court before continuing "- who didn't. Someone who thought the cards were blue."

Apollo thought hard. Someone _had_ said that, Phoenix was right. Then it hit him. It made no sense, but at the same time, it had to make sense. In a bizarre way, it made perfect sense.

"It was…" He couldn't bring himself to say it.

"The court is listening, Mr Justice. Who was this fourth person?" the judge asked.

"It was Mr Gavin." Apollo had to try his best not to pause too long before saying the name. It had sounded less ridiculous in his head.

The court went silent. Phoenix made his way to the witness stand, and was now smiling to himself.

"Yes. You're right." He was doing that shifty look, hat almost over his eyes.

"What? That was right?" Apollo was more-than-slightly taken aback.

"Mr Gavin! What do you have to say to this?" the judge asked in surprise.

"Need I say anything, Your Honor?" Even like this, Kristoph never once lost his cool.

"Of course you do! You have to testify! Even I cannot deny that you stated the cards were blue!"

The judge called a recess, enough time for Kristoph to prepare his own defense, and court reconvened after 30 minutes, during which time Apollo tried to figure out just what the hell was about to happen.

Kristoph's defense was actually very simple.

"The defendant has presented his theory of a fourth person at the scene, and that I myself am that fourth person. It is true that I dined with him the night of the murder. However, I will ask the defense: what basis do you have for accusing me? I have no motive that I am aware of. In fact, the only evidence you have is that I stated the cards were blue. I seem to remember Wright and I played cards ourselves that night, with the blue deck. This explains my reasoning rather well, I think. What does it matter if I thought the cards were blue?"

Apollo had practiced cross-examination on Kristoph before, but he never expected to do it like this.

"Mr Gavin. We know the killer thought the cards were blue. You're the only one here who ever said that. It matters because it proves you're the killer!"

"How, exactly? What does the color have to do with anything?" Apollo had no comeback. "And another thing – hypothetically, why would I even want to switch the cards? Frankly, I see this entire testimony as a colossal waste of time."

"Uhhh…" Stalling for time, Kristoph had told him, was one of the most important strategies of a defense attorney.

"Mr Justice? Do you have a reason? Can you prove that Mr Gavin had a reason to swap the cards? I'm afraid, without a valid reason, you don't have a case." The judge, and everyone else in the court, stared at Apollo expectantly.

"Uhhh…"

He had nothing. Not a shred of evidence. Nothing at all to indict Kristoph. He was actually relieved. Kristoph smiled amiably at the court, then resumed his spot behind the defense's bench. Of course, considering that Phoenix was innocent, that it wasn't a suicide, and that Olga Orly had a motive, it was obvious who the true killer was.

"The defense accuses the witness, Ms Olga Orly, of murder! When the plot failed, Mr Smith lashed out at her, and she fought back with a bottle! Then, she switched the bottle for one on the floor, which had Mr Wright's fingerprints on it! Your Honor, Ms Orly is the murderer!"

Mr Wright was declared innocent, and Ms Orly was immediately arrested. Later, she was found guilty of the murder of Shadi Smith.

Apollo's defending career had gone upward from there, and he had also found Trucy. Phoenix had finally told him that they here half-siblings, as well as the whole truth about the Gramaryes, including his mother, Thalassa Gramarye. Phoenix, Trucy and Apollo had grown closer over the year or so that Apollo had known them, through their trials and experiences together. Klavier was also a good friend of the group, the man who Phoenix described as 'the only decent prosecutor left in the country.'

Kristoph, however, had suffered as a result of that trial. He had come nowhere near to being accused of Smith's murder, but public opinion was a fickle thing. He was never directly accused of anything, but he was suspected. He had been there the night of the crime by his own admission, after all. Ms Orly protested her innocence constantly, which added fuel to the fire – if she was innocent, then…


	2. Chapter 2

Longer chapter, but get this - stuff actually HAPPENS in this one. Like, srsly. It's not just some crappy retelling of a trial, huzzah!  
Silliness aside, I'm really enjoying writing this so far. I do have a kind-of master plan, in as far as I know who exactly is going to be involved. As for little details, I'm going to let them happen as I write. My original plan was to have a bunch of OCs, but I know that if I do that at least one will turn out to be the biggest Mary Sue ever, so I deliberately avoided it. I've written fanfic before on other sites, but I'm still relatively new so reviews would be greatly appreciated!

Anyhoo, rambling over, enjoy this chapter!

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**Chapter 2**

It was a rainy morning on the 14th April, and Apollo forced himself out of bed reluctantly. There had been another murder two days ago (it was surprising how little that thought affected him any more), and he was defending. Klavier was prosecuting, of course, and Apollo had promised that he would go and pick up some case files from the Prosecutor's Office. He pulled his usual clothes on, pinned his attorney's badge to his lapel and left on his bike for the Wright Anything Agency.

On the way there, he rode straight into a man running full speed in the opposite direction. He stopped and got off his bike to apologise, but the man had already gone by. Deciding to go after him to check he was alright, Apollo turned his bike around and gave chase. Five minutes later, when he was sure the man had given him the slip, he headed once again for the agency, and put the strange man out of his head.

He walked into the Agency, brushed one of Charley's longer-reaching branches aside and called for Phoenix.

"Mr Wright? Mr Wright! You there?"

He heard a muffled voice from the side room.

"Trucy's not here, if that's what you want."

"Huh? Why's that?"

"I don't know, she didn't come back from school yesterday. Probably went to a friend's place for the night, she'll be back."

"Not worried about her?" Apollo certainly was. She would never disappear without a word.

"Nah, she'll be back soon. You're going to the Prosecutor's Office? I'll send her over there when she gets back. Oh, and don't disrespect Charley like that again. I can sense these things, you know."

Apollo was already running late, gave Charley a defiant poke, then ran out and cycled toward Klavier's office.

At a quarter to twelve, Apollo finally made it to the office. He knocked, remembered Klavier's office was soundproofed, and hammered on the door for all he was worth. Eventually the door opened, and he saw the Rockin' Prosecutor himself standing in the doorway.

"Ah, Herr Forehead! So glad you chose to join me!"

"I know I'm late, Mr Gavin, I got held up by this guy-"

Klavier cut him off. "Who cares for details?" He shrugged, and his blingy necklace jingled and caught the light. He pulled the door open, and Apollo walked inside.

The room was largely unchanged since he had last been in there, during the case against Machi Tobaye. Still a ton of guitars around the place, still had that huge stereo and those cool screens. Even though he had split the band, he was still rocking on. On Klavier's desk, Apollo spotted a bunch of files.

"Is that it?" Apollo pointed.

"Ja. I thought I'd help you out a little, you're always so… unprepared for our trials." That smile that he always gave his fangirls.

Apollo smirked in return. "Like I need your help anyway, Gavin." He walked over to the desk, careful to avoid stepping on all the music sheets that seemed to be serving as a kind of messy carpet, and picked up the file.

"By the way, on your way here, did you see Kristoph?" Klavier asked. The slight hint of concern in his voice was a rare thing to hear, and Apollo frowned as he turned to face him.

"No. Is he supposed to be here?"

"He was supposed to be here half an hour ago. He told me he was taking me out for dinner. He never said where or why, now that I think about it. But he said he'd be here, and you know as well as I do that he's never late for anything."

"That's odd." Apollo's frown formed again. He turned back to the desk, and stared out the window, looking down on the street for his mentor. He saw no sign, and turned back around to Klavier, who was now drumming his fingers on the table.

"Worried?" Apollo asked.

"No, he'll have his reasons." This exchange reminded Apollo of what had happened at the agency.

"Speaking of people not showing up, Trucy wasn't at home last night." He wasn't sure why he was saying this to Klavier of all people, but he said it anyway.

Klavier hummed quietly, still looking downward. Apollo made his way to the still-open door with the file, when he saw-

"Mr Gavin? What's this outside your door?" He knelt down, and after a few seconds Klavier had joined him.

It was a small receiver, dark blue with a bright red switch, short little antenna and a speaker.

"What is this?" Apollo picked it up, and examined it closer. "It looks like that igniter."

"Don't hit that button. If my office catches fire, you'll have hell to pay."

"I don't think it'll do that. That other one didn't have a speaker on it. I think it's a transceiver, like one half of a walkie-talkie."

"Who's on the other end?" Klavier asked earnestly.

Right on cue, the transceiver went off with a piercing ring. Apollo jolted, and dropped the thing as it kept on relentlessly ringing. He picked it back up and followed Klavier back into the office. They stood facing each other, Apollo holding the transceiver between them. He hit the switch, and held it down as a voice emerged.

"About time you found my gift, gentlemen. I would have thought a prosecutor and a defense attorney would be more collectively observant." The voice sounded smooth, unconcerned and genuinely threatening. It sent an icy chill through the room.

"Who are you?" Klavier seemed to surprise himself with his question.

"For the time being, that is irrelevant. What is important, however, is this." There was the sound of something shifting around coming from the transceiver, then a scream Apollo recognised easily.

"Eeeeeeeeek!"

"Trucy!" Apollo yelled into the transceiver. "You DARE hurt her…" Reason was clouded by rage.

Another, different voice sounded through the speaker. "Justice, stay calm. We will only get through this if we stay cool and collected." Klavier didn't say a word, but Apollo saw his face turn pale. Their eyes met as they recognised the voice of Kristoph Gavin.

"What's going on here?" asked Klavier. His voice was flat and monotone, yet he was more emotional than Apollo had ever seen him.

"Don't worry. I won't hurt them. They're just a little… tied up with their work, if you like." Apollo clenched his fist, and a tiny crack appeared in the side of the transceiver as the plastic cover struggled to survive in his grip. Klavier stayed calm.

"What do you want?"

"This is nothing personal, you must understand. I am merely working to the wishes of my client."

"So what does your client want?"

"My client wants you to play a game."

"What?" Apollo and Klavier spoke at the same time.

"Mr Justice. You are holding a file. That file details a murder that occurred two days ago, if I am not mistaken. You, gentlemen, will be the attorneys in this trial. The rules of the game are simple. In fact, there is only one: whoever wins this trial regains their lost item. Whoever loses… well, their item… to put it extremely bluntly, I will kill their item with my own two hands."

There was silence in the room for what felt like forever, as both men processed what the voice had told them. Eventually, Apollo spoke. What he said, he didn't plan to say, but it was the only option they had. After all they had been through, he couldn't even consider going up against Klavier like this. Even if he won, he would lose his mentor. And, looking at Klavier, Apollo didn't think he was capable of winning the fight, knowing that Trucy would…

"No." Almost a whisper, but a defiant one. Klavier looked across at him.

"What are you doing?" he whispered back.

"We can't do this. You know we can't. You." He looked back down at the transceiver as if it could see him too. He stared directly into the speaker grill. "You, give us five minutes."

"…As you wish." The transceiver beeped a few times, and static filled the office. Apollo let go of the switch, realising only then how hard he had been holding it down. He stared down at his hooked finger, not wanting to look back up. Eventually, he forced himself to.

"Got a plan, Justice?" When Klavier called him by name rather than nickname, Apollo knew it was serious. Not that he needed Klavier to tell him that. He shook his head.

"We'll have to come up with something in the next five minutes." The room went silent again.

Neither of them said it, but both of them thought it. They both had huge stakes to play for. If two people play a game against each other, one has to lose, one has to win. That is the nature of a game, a competition. Two opposing players. Two sides. And with such high stakes, there was only one thing they could do.

Fight this battle with everything they had, to protect what was most important.

Apollo gently placed the file on the table, and put the transceiver on top of it. Klavier didn't move.

"Unless we change the rules." Apollo said, and turned to Klavier. "If we can change the rules, that might be it."

"What do you mean, change the rules?"

"He wants us to fight. Rather, his client wants us to fight. One verdict in a trial, so one winner of this game. But we can't fight this battle like he wants us to." Klavier nodded in agreement.

"So what do we do?" he asked. He was flustered, but Apollo, somehow, could think perfectly straight.

"What if… what if, we get one verdict, overturn it, and get the other? Then we'd both win."

"Justice…" Klavier paused. "Nice idea, but there's no way."

"Why not? He said it himself, he's doing what his client wants him to. As long as his client agrees…"

The transceiver rang. This time, Klavier grabbed at it and held the switch.

"I fear I am calling back prematurely, but have you finished?" Both men could hear the slight smile in his voice as he asked.

"We've got an idea to propose." Apollo said. He tried his best to stop his voice shaking, but it still quaked a little.

"What is it, pray tell?"

"We'll get one verdict, then we'll call for a retrial, then we'll get the other one. That way, we both get our… items back, according to your rules."

"Hmm. This is an interesting proposal, Mr Justice. Allow me some time to detail this to my client."

Another long silence. Apollo let his mind wander off for the few minutes that the transceiver was silent. This guy had Trucy and Kristoph at his mercy, and he and Klavier would have to face off in court to decide which of them returned? The hell had he been drinking? He thought about what to tell Phoenix, whether or not to tell him the truth. Eventually, he settled on an answer to that. The transceiver went off again, and didn't even get through one full ring before Klavier hit the switch.

"You're in luck, gentlemen. My client has agreed to your terms. On one condition."

"What's that?" asked Apollo, not exactly looking forward to the answer.

"My client describes it as 'all or nothing.' You obtain one verdict. Should you fail to get a retrial, or fail to obtain the other verdict, neither of your items find their way home. Should you keep to your terms, however, they will safely be returned to you."

Apollo and Klavier caught each other's eyes again, and nodded. "Deal." They said, simultaneously.

"Then we have an accord. I need not remind you to keep this from the police. I look forward to your performance tomorrow, gentlemen."

"Wait!" Apollo shouted.

"Mr Justice?"

"You never told us. Who are you?" Neither of them expected an answer, but one came.

"I am… de Killer."


	3. Chapter 3

Short chapter here, guys. But yeah, it's a biggie. Things take an interesting turn here :D And because I'm such a wimp, I'm deciding to write ahead a chapter before I publish it on here, just in case I forget to mention something. Do you ever tell a long joke, forget to say the most important line in the story, then realize just before you hit the punchline? I don't want to do that. So yeah, I'm planning ahead. Next chapter is a long beast, but fun to write and hopefully fun to read too! But I won't get ahead of myself, here's chapter 3! Reviews greatly appreciated!

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**Chapter 3**

Ten minutes after de Killer revealed his name, Apollo and Klavier were sat on the floor in Klavier's office. They had agreed a general action plan; they would work out if the defendant in the trial was guilty or not, then get the wrong verdict. During the trial, they would leave some things vague enough to be sufficient grounds for a retrial, in which they would get the right verdict. The outcome of their plan; they would win the game, and justice would be served in the trial itself.

Right now, they were looking over the case file that Apollo had originally come to pick up. Klavier read it aloud.

"Murder occurred on the roof of the Gatewater Hotel on the 12th April. Victim sustained one gunshot wound to the head, ouch, current suspect is hotel bellboy. Witnesses to the crime are-" Klavier looked up, smiling. "Detective Ema Skye, who was staying in the hotel in the floor below, and Luke Atmey, an ex-detective who was serving a prison sentence for murder, now on parole. Two detective witnesses, what luck." Klavier dropped the case file on the floor with a sigh, and Apollo picked it up, reading it himself.

"Paroled for murder?"

"Guess they took his past into account. He probably put his fair share of criminals away, early release is his reward." Klavier shrugged.

Apollo carried on reading, then noticed something odd.

"This _is_ a murder, right?" he asked. It sounded ridiculous, and Klavier gave him a look to suggest that he thought so too. "So where's the data on the victim? It's got suspects and witnesses, but nothing on the victim."

"Huh." Klavier pulled the file out of his hands and flicked through it once again. "You're right." He stood up. "It's almost one o'clock. Let's go to the police department." Klavier grabbed the transceiver.

They took the lift to ground floor and left the Prosecutor's Office. Klavier crossed the parking lot, and headed for his motorcycle. Apollo eyed his bicycle chained to a railing, closed his eyes, mentally wrote his last will and testament, and went after Klavier.

"This'll be a hell of a ride, Forehead. I don't know the meaning of the word 'slow.'" Klavier sat on the bike, and shifted forward a little to leave enough room for Apollo behind him.

"I won't read too much into that," Apollo replied, and took his seat.

Klavier pulled out of the parking lot and hit the road. The city became a blur as they roared along, heading toward the Criminal Affairs Department. Apollo tried desperately to find a balance between staying calm and clinging onto Klavier for dear life as he felt the wind attacking him. Klavier wasn't lying about the 'slow' thing. Minutes later, he felt the wind lay off its assault and Klavier stopped the bike. The Blue Badger greeted them with his creepy waving baton as they walked toward the entrance of the building.

Apollo agreed to let Klavier do the talking; they both knew prosecutors had more clout with the police. They explained who they were, waited a little while, and eventually a detective came over to speak to them.

"Prosecutor Gavin, Mr Justice? Name's Dick Gumshoe, pal. I can help you with anything as long as it's not money." He scratched at his little goatee-thing.

"It's not money, Detective. We need information about this case." Klavier handed him the file, and continued. "There's no victim data, you see." He pointed at where it should have been.

"I'll go check with the morgue guys, wait right here." Gumshoe left, giving the file back to Apollo.

Five minutes later, a different detective showed up with some papers.

"Detective Gumshoe handed me this, told me to give it to the guy in the purple." He gave the missing file to Klavier. "Then he ran out of here. He wasn't looking so good." The detective left them.

Klavier read the file, in silence. Only when he had finished did he speak.

"Sixteen…" he muttered. "She was sixteen."

"You can't be serious… A sixteen year old girl, victim of a murder?" Apollo took the file when Klavier offered it to him. He read it closely, not realising that he was reading the back.

"Victim was staying in the hotel planning on visiting a friend. According to statements made by one of the witnesses, she went up to the roof at around 11pm, and was shot once in the side of the head. Reason unknown. Oh man." Apollo pushed his hair back. "What's her name?" he asked, gently.

"You're reading the back there, Justice." Klavier quietly pointed out. He looked genuinely shocked, Apollo thought, not the cool guy he usually was during a murder investigation.

"Victim name: Pearl Fey. Age 16, spirit medium of the Kurain Channelling Technique. Body found at 11pm on the roof of the Gatewater Hotel by hotel bellboy. One gunshot wound to head, death instantaneous. Estimated time of death: 9 to 11pm on 12th April." The cold truth of the case shook Apollo, and he was struck with a fear than he himself couldn't quite understand.


	4. Chapter 4

At long last, chapter 4! We actually start learning about the case here. I'm really, really enjoying writing this so far, I can't stress it enough. I've started writing to the AJ music, it's actually really working out. I've written the next chapter's cross-examinations to... well, the cross-examination theme. It works really nicely :D Next chapter is written, watch this space and enjoy chapter 4! Reviews and criticism welcome!

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**Chapter 4**

Apollo and Klavier decided to split their investigation. Apollo would take the legwork, Klavier would sort out the trial preparation and get more information from the police. As Apollo made to leave Criminal Affairs, Klavier stopped him.

"Stop worrying about her. We've got this. We'll know how it stands by tomorrow, all we have to do then is play to the crowd, ja?" He smiled, and went to talk to the detectives of the case. Apollo silently left the precinct.

He only remembered when he got outside that Klavier had brought him here, and he wasn't about to ask to lend his bike. He began his long walk to the Gatewater Hotel after asking for directions, and was startled to realise how close it was to the Wright Anything Agency, just across the road. Wondering how he could possibly have missed it, he went in. The lady at the front desk greeted him with a bored, but polite smile.

"Welcome to the Gatewater Hotel, sir. Are you planning on staying the night?" she asked. It was obvious it was a question she had asked countless times before.

"Isn't it a crime scene?"

"It was, sir. The investigation has finished now, we're open for business again. We've been going for twenty years now, sir."

"Really?" Apollo tried his best to sound interested. "So, if the investigation's over, can I take a look around?" He flashed his best lawyerly smile.

"I don't see why not, sir. Be my guest." On that atrocious pun, the phone rang. She answered it with an equally bored-sounding "Gatewater Hotel." Apollo went over to the lift, noticing how soft and fluffy the carpet felt. The entire room had party remnants left over – poppers, and streamers and hats. He figured it had been used recently for a wedding reception or something. The lift got to ground level with a clang, and he stepped inside, the grey interior contrasting with the brightly lit room that was slowly being obscured by the closing doors. He hit the button for the roof, and tapped his foot impatiently as he waited.

Don't worry about her, Klavier had said. Easier said than done. It's hard to relax when so much is on the line. Trials never go the way you expect, something could go wrong and-

The robotic 'please mind the doors' thankfully cut that thought short. The doors opened, and a cold breeze hit him once again as he looked out.

In front of him was the back of a huge neon sign, unlit right now, proudly displaying to him the reverse of 'Gatewater Hotel.' The roof itself was framed by a tiny concrete wall, about six inches high. He stepped forward, to look around an air vent that was about five feet high. Under the neon sign, just underneath the 'L' in 'Hotel', lay the outline tape. Apollo went over to it, and knelt down.

The floor here was stained, showing only too clearly what had happened. The victim had fallen, presumably because she was shot, and had landed sideways. Apollo found himself wondering again just what this sixteen-year old had done to deserve such an end. He stood back up, and began to look around the area for anything the police had missed. There were a few air vents whirring away, but there wasn't anything else on the roof. It wasn't that there was nothing of interest on the roof, but that there literally was nothing else on the roof expect for the vents and the sign and the outline tape. He gave the roof one last sweeping look, then walked back to the lift. Then turned back. There was something.

There was something that didn't belong on the sign. It had caught the sunlight as he turned (he was reminded of Klavier's necklace that morning) and he walked back over to it. It was a string of small pearls, hanging off one of the metal supports holding up the sign. A closer look told him that the two ends had once been joined – the string had been broken, and the two ends joined perfectly. Judging from the length, it was once a necklace. There were a few tiny drops of dried blood clinging to one of the pearls.

"Pearls…" he said, under his breath. He put it carefully in his pocket, and took the lift back down to the lobby.

There was only one other lead he could think of that could be helpful in the hotel, and he asked the front-desk lady about it.

"The bellboy? Well, when he wasn't in the rooms, he was in the kitchen. He had to make sure everything ran perfectly, you see. If you want to know more about him, you could try there, sir."

"Anyone in there?"

"Not right now, sir."

"… but you said you were open for business."

"The _rooms _are open, sir. We have no need for the kitchens if there's no-one here to deliver the food to the rooms." Apollo, failing to see the logic behind the entire hotel having only one bellboy, asked where the kitchens were.

There was a grand staircase that led the long way to the rooms upstairs, and a smaller, simpler set of stairs leading downward. Apollo went down to the depths of the hotel, and found himself in a cold little corridor. The opulence of the lobby didn't extend down here, it seemed. There was a door at the end of the hall, with a wooden sign that read 'Kitchen' hanging above it. He pushed the door open – it was one of those that swung open whichever side you opened it from – and went in.

For a luxury hotel, there wasn't much in the kitchen. Two worn ovens, two rows of sideboards, cupboards with plates and other cutlery in, and three giant refrigerators that lined the opposite wall. The room was pristine. He didn't know exactly what he expected to find down here, but he hadn't been expecting a whole lot from the roof either. Opening a few drawers and prodding the knives and forks around, he decided there probably wasn't anything of interest in here. On his way out, he almost tripped over the trashcan, somehow not noticing the giant green plastic thing directly between him and the door. He looked at it, shrugged one shoulder, and pulled some things off the top. A few empty packets and wrappers, boxes that once held frozen food, and a bent fork. Right at the bottom was something different. It seemed to glow slightly, or maybe Apollo was seeing things. He pulled it out, and it almost escaped his grip. Once he had it in plain sight, he could see why.

It was a jewel of sorts. It was blue, and a strange comma shape, with a hole in the centre. It was covered in blood. Without really thinking, Apollo pulled the pearl necklace out of his pocket. He looked closer at the jewel. There were two tiny holes in the top, just wide enough to admit a piece of string to hang it off. He took one end of the necklace and, with difficulty, pushed the frayed string through one of the holes. The end of the string reappeared, through the other hole in the jewel. He held the two ends together, and held the complete necklace up in front of him. Did it belong to the victim?

He took it over to the sink, washed his hands, and found a little plastic bag to keep the necklace in. Once he had it safely in his pocket again, he left. There was nothing else he could do there. There had been two witnesses that were staying in the hotel, but he and Klavier had agreed to leave their case purposely vague. Investigating too thoroughly could hurt them in the long run. He made his way back upstairs, and left the hotel, taking a blank sheet of paper with him.

Once he was outside, he walked down the street a little way before stopping at a bench. He took a pen out of his pocket, and started writing, attempting it in a hand familiar to him.

'Daddy,

I'm staying at my friend's place for a few days. Don't you worry, nothing's wrong, there's a big class project and we're working on it. I promise I'll be back in a few days when we finish it.

Trucy'

Apollo paused, then added 'Wright' after her name. Then he drew a little diamond in between. Trucy Diamond Wright. It wasn't her middle name at all, but it seemed strangely appropriate. If all went to plan, she'd be away for a few days. Who knew what she would go through… she'd need to be stronger than diamond. Apollo caught himself staring at the words 'I promise' he had written, and hoped, against all the odds, that this was a promise he could make good on. He crossed the road to the Anything Agency, and posted it through the letterbox. He ran back around the corner, and when he was safely out of sight he walked to Criminal Affairs.

It was fast approaching 4 o'clock by the time he got there. It took longer to walk there and back than he thought. Klavier was sat at one of the desks, writing with one hand and tapping the rhythm to 'Guilty Love' with the other. He looked up as Apollo entered the room.

"Forehead! It's been quiet without you! What have you got?" He shouted the first two sentences, then whispered the last one. Apollo explained everything he'd found out; he spoke about the necklace, explained why he hadn't looked further, everything but the note to Phoenix.

"A necklace… was it hers?" Klavier didn't notice he was playing with his own.

"I think so. Pearl Fey, pearl necklace, it fits, right?"

"Guess so. Best get that blood tested, don't want any nasty surprises." Rockstar smile. He called over a detective, who took the necklace for testing.

"So what have you been doing while I was gone?" Apollo asked.

"Admin stuff. Ach, Justice, paperwork isn't my thing. I've been filing our papers for the trial tomorrow, preparing witness testimony-"

"Who's testifying tomorrow?"

"Detective Skye. Hopefully we'll have Gumshoe back by then. He'll be giving us the details, the delightful Ema will play the charming witness this time rather than the detective. That Atmey guy is going to be talking to us the day after, if all goes to plan."

"Why are we going into two trial days? Can they last that long against de Killer?" It was the first time either of them had spoken the name since their conversation the man over the transceiver. Klavier looked him in the eye.

"They'll have to. We need to get the wrong verdict at first, so we need time to figure out which verdict is right. Two trial days should be enough. Then all we have to do is turn it around. We can do that in one. This game will be over in three days." This was the most serious Apollo had ever seen Klavier. "And we will win, Justice. I promise." Apollo had no response.

Klavier finished writing his paperwork in mostly silence. "I persuaded one of the detectives to recommend your services to the bellboy. He wrote a letter of request, but insists it's an affidavit. He's taking it rather… well." They lapsed back into silence. He finished at 5 o'clock, and they agreed to call it a day.

"Oh, Justice. I forgot." They were just about to leave the precinct when Klavier pulled an evidence bag out of his jacket, and held it up. Inside was a pistol. "Murder weapon. Two shots fired."

"Fingerprints?"

"Gloveprints. Whoever fired it was wearing gloves. Nothing else apart from that. Found at the scene of the crime." Klavier shoved it back inside his jacket. "Now, to my office. We need to decide our strategy."

They got on Klavier's bike and hit the road again in another death-defying ride to the Prosecutor's Office. Apollo actually enjoyed the ride this time. He'd given up on bravado and was just clutching on to Klavier as they drove. They screeched up to the entrance, and took the lift to Klavier's office.

Once they were back inside the office, they began planning. They put together all the evidence they had – the case files and autopsy report, the gun, the broken necklace, the jewel, and Klavier laughed when Apollo tried to say his badge was evidence too. Klavier refused to tell Apollo what the exact testimony was going to be.

"We can't make it look like we've planned this out beforehand. We need your genuine reactions, Justice. That strange face you make when your case gets screwed over, that sort of thing. Just don't mess this up." Klavier gave him the transceiver, and told him to call if it rang.

It was a strange feeling, Apollo thought as he left the office for his apartment. He had never been this readily prepared for a trial, and yet this was the most nervous he had been by far. The game was just beginning, and already both of them were feeling the pressure. They had to win. There was no other option.


	5. Chapter 5

Probably my favorite chapter to write so far, and also the longest yet. Damn, I love writing court sequences, even if they're not that great :D I have the next chapter written (this plan is working so far, it's nice to be able to go back and change things rather than find a convoluted way out of a problem I wrote myself into). I'm not entirely sure how this story will end, though I kind of like that to be honest. I get the feeling that the ending will almost write itself. I've planned ahead in terms of the case, but not in terms of the actual character stuff. That's improvised (or writing equivalent thereof :D) Reviews would be greatly appreciated - if there's one thing a writer needs to get spot-on in an AA fic, it's court sequences :D Thank you for reading, and enjoy!

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**Chapter 5**

It was almost 9am on 15th April, the first day of the trial. Apollo had hoped to speak with his client, but the bellboy was still on his way to the court. He hadn't slept at all for worry, just stayed awake and read over the Court Record. If Trucy had been here, she would have told him off. Thinking of her brought the letter to mind, and the guilt of lying to Phoenix, so he tried to put it out of his mind for now. He was alone in the not-very-accurately-named defendant's lobby , skimming over all the evidence again in his head and trying to figure out exactly what Klavier's plan of action would be.

Just as the name came to mind, Klavier himself walked in through the doors. Apollo, who had expected it to be the bellboy, tried not to look too downhearted.

"Where's the bellboy? I kinda need to speak to him."

"Apparently, he was being… ah, difficult, shall we say, in questioning. They will postpone the trial for five minutes, but if he's not here by then, you'll have to go in blind, I'm afraid." Klavier seemed his relatively normal self now. Either he wasn't worrying about Kristoph, or he was a sublime actor as well as a rockstar.

"You know what they say about justice…" Apollo smiled. He knew the joke was weak, but it lightened the mood just a little. He didn't realise, but he was playing with the antenna of the transceiver in his pocket.

"Yes, Justice and his charging into trials without the necessary evidence." Klavier handed him a file, and an evidence bag with a familiar necklace in it. "It's the victim's blood. As we already knew, but no harm in making sure."

"Thanks, Prosecutor Gavin. Not gonna tell me who's testifying, still?" Apollo asked, skim-reading the file. He already had what he needed from it, but he read it anyway.

"I can't, Justice. It would look too suspicious if you were too well prepared." Apollo shot him a glare, but couldn't help himself smiling. Klavier turned and made for the door into the courtroom, then turned back. "Justice, outside the courtroom, dispense with the 'Prosecutor', ja? I don't mind first-name terms, honest."

"Sure thing, Klavier." It felt strange to say, but Apollo tried not to let it show.

Klavier grinned, then left and closed the door behind him, leaving Apollo once more to his thoughts. When the bailiff came over five minutes later, and told him that the trial was starting now with or without the defendant, Apollo entered the courtroom.

Apollo took his position facing Klavier, the familiar dents in the wood of the defense's bench calming him a little. The judge took his seat, the crowds followed suit, Klavier clicked his fingers rhythmically, and the hammering of the gavel began the trial.

"Court is now in session for the trial of…uh… Prosecutor?"

"Herr Judge?"

"Why is there no name listed for the defendant?"

"He refused to tell the police his name. He said it was 'irrelevant, as his hotel was his life.'"

"I-I see. Well, anyway, court is in session."

"The defense is ready, Your Honor." _Work_ those Chords of Steel, he thought.

"Prosecution's ready and waiting to rock." Klavier, as ever, the music metaphor man.

"Very well. Prosecution, your opening statements please."

"The details of the case will be described shortly in the testimony of the lead detective. But, there is one thing I would like to address before we begin."

"What's that?" Apollo asked. He hoped he wouldn't regret it.

"Herr Judge, the defendant's chair seems a little lacking, does it not?" Klavier replied, turning to the judge.

"Now that you mention it, you're right! Where is he, Prosecutor Gavin?" Apollo had to fight every urge he had to yell 'how could you NOT notice that' at full volume.

"He is on his way here as we speak. For now, let us begin without him. Detective Gumshoe! The floor is yours." Klavier glanced across at Apollo and mouthed 'good luck'. Apollo nodded in reply.

A minute later, the scruffy detective in the green trenchcoat took the stand. Right now, he looked like the saddest man alive. He never stopped staring at the floor, and tried not to make eye contact.

"Your name and occupation, Detective?"

"Dick Gumshoe, pal." His huge shoulders seemed to shake as he suddenly hunched over, and he couldn't speak for a few seconds. "I-I'm in charge of the… investigation."

"Are you alright, Detective? You seem a little… out of sorts…" the judge asked concernedly.

"I'm fine, sir!" He slammed his hands down on the stand with renewed vigor. Then he slumped over again, and sniffed a few times, scratching his head while trying not to make it completely obvious he was wiping his eyes. "Honest…" He trailed off.

The judge carried on. "Very well. Detective, please tell us about the facts of the case. And try not to get too, uh, emotional." Apollo saw himself tensing and relaxing his fingers on the bench, and held his hands behind his back. He couldn't afford to show weakness here. Gumshoe began to testify, his sniffing frequency reduced slightly.

"The case goes like this. At 11pm on the 12th April, a, uh, woman staying in the hotel heard a gunshot from the roof. When she went to investigate, she saw the body of the v-victim, and the hotel bellboy kneeling alongside. The bellboy was arrested. We've got concrete evidence, pal. This case is airtight, pal. He's the only one who could have done it."

The judge nodded. "Thank you, Detective."

"Herr Judge." Klavier held up a photo. "This is a photo of the scene, as the detective team found it during their investigation." The judge accepted it as evidence. Before Apollo could look at it properly, the judge had spoken. "Mr Justice, your cross-examination please." He looked across at Klavier. They caught each other's eyes, and Apollo understood. There was nothing here, except answers to questions he had to ask.

"Detective Gumshoe. When you said 'concrete evidence,' what exactly did you mean? A photo taken after the fact isn't very persuasive."

"The murder weapon, pal, found at the scene. It has glove marks on it. The bellboy wears gloves."

"Ah. Was there anything else at the scene?" Apollo changed the subject before the judge could jump in.

"Nothing of interest."

"Where exactly on the roof was she found?" He already knew the answer, but asked anyway. He had to stall a little, to drag out the trial for another day.

"We have plans of the roof here." Klavier answered. Gumshoe showed the plans to the court, and pointed to the spot below the 'Gatewater Hotel' sign, where the 'L' would be. "She was found here, sir." The judge added the plans to evidence.

Apollo prodded his forehead with his finger and thought. So they'd missed the necklace, and probably hadn't checked the kitchens. He decided to keep it as the ace up his sleeve for now.

"So, witness. Can you tell us a little more about the victim? We only have the autopsy report, a little more detail might go a long way."

At this, Gumshoe seemed to deflate. He took a few deep breaths, and spoke.

"She… she was Pearl Fey, a spirit medium of the Kurain family of mediums. As far as we know, she'd gone to the hotel because she was visiting someone. She went up to the roof. We don't know why yet, but that's where she was… that's where she was killed, sir." He hunched over again, holding on to the witness stand with every ounce of strength he had.

"Why all this emotion, Detective? Save that for later. Right now, stand tall and testify. We don't need an emotional wreck on the stand, ja?" Klavier's words had an almost immediate effect. Gumshoe straightened up, and spoke perfectly clearly. "You're right, sir. Sorry."

Klavier smiled, and gesture for Apollo to continue.

"So, who was she visiting? Do you know?"

"We think it was that guy who runs that weird agency across the street from that hotel. That was the address we found in a note she had in her bag." Apollo's hand tensed under the bench. She knew Phoenix, then. "She must have thought it was still a law office." She knew Phoenix a long time ago.

"I think we have all we need from this testimony, Herr Forehead. Can we move on?" Klavier asked.

"Not yet, Prosecutor Gavin. There's one more thing I need to ask." It was something he wasn't entirely confident about, but it needed to be asked. "Did you say, earlier in your testimony, that the case was 'airtight'?"

"Nope, I said it was 'airtight, _pal._'"

Apollo folded his arms. "I don't think so, pal." A little bluff was necessary here. Besides, he knew Klavier wouldn't shut him down too badly.

"What do you mean, sir?"

"Detective Gumshoe! You're missing the one thing critical to a murder trial!"

"We got evidence right here!"

Apollo shook his head. "No, Detective. There's something else. Motive." The crowd began to chatter, and the judge silenced them to order with a pound of the gavel. Now, Apollo had to rely on Gumshoe and Klavier to tell him what he was scared to find out.

"Ooooooooh!" Gumshoe looked genuinely shocked. "Mr Gavin, sir!"

"Looks like I'll have to bail the good detective out of this." Klavier slammed the wall with his fist. "Herr Forehead, remember the testimony. 'He's the only one that could have done it.' A motive is irrelevant when there is only one possible suspect!"

Apollo flinched. "W-well…" He slammed his fists down on the bench in retaliation. "How could you possibly know that for sure?" As soon as he said it, he knew where Klavier was trying to lead him with it.

"Our witness, of course. She saw the defendant at the scene, mere moments after the shot rang out!"

"Interesting! Who is this witness, Prosecutor Gavin?" the judge asked.

"Detective Ema Skye, who happened to be staying in the hotel the night of the murder, Herr Judge."

The judge slammed his gavel. "Bailiff! Please admit Ms Skye to the court!"

A few moments later, Ema took the stand. Apollo was glad to have a witness that didn't look like they were going to break down into tears at any moment. He told his inner monologue to shut up when it pointed out, quite truthfully, that if this trial went badly he would probably do the same. He made a mental to-do list; ask about Gumshoe, talk to Phoenix about the victim and, most importantly, talk to the defendant.

"Let's play by the book here. Witness, name and occupation." Klavier, ever the charmer. Ema was having none of it.

"It had to be the fop prosecuting, didn't it. Uh, fine. Detective Ema Skye… detective." She absent-mindedly started munching her Snackoos, and the judge looked confused. But that was par for the course.

"Thank you for that occupational insight, witness. Now, please testify for the court. Describe what you saw at the Gatewater Hotel the night of the murder!" the judge ordered.

"There was a party that night at the hotel, up until 10:30pm. After that, I went to my room. At around 11, I heard a gunshot from the roof of the hotel, so I went up to investigate. When I got there, I saw the hotel bellboy standing under the sign, and a girl on the floor. She'd been shot, and the bellboy was holding the gun. I immediately called the police."

"Y-you saw him … holding the gun?" Apollo recognised a bad trial when he was in one, and this one was getting worse by the second.

"Sure did. He heard me coming up in the lift, and turned around with the gun in his hand."

"Agh!" He had nothing else left to say, just an inarticulate noise.

"Plus, there's the glove marks on the gun itself. Pretty conclusive, I think."

"Agreed, witness. This does seem a very simple case. Mr Justice, if this testimony is accepted as-is, then I feel I am in a position to deliver a verdict, with or without the defendant."

Then I'd better find something wrong with it, Apollo thought, or this game will be over before it's started.

"So, you say you were at the hotel party before you heard the shot?"

"Yes. I was supposed to be there as security, but… it seemed quite secure already." Apollo's secret reply of 'hello, there was a MURDER' thankfully never escaped him.

"And you went to your room at 10:30?" These questions were padding to the max, but he needed details.

"After the party finished. There was a band, and a few fireworks, and a laser show thing, and a lot of dancing." Ema looked embarrassed, and turned away slightly. Apollo half-expected his bracelet to react.

"And then the shot at 11? Can you tell us anything else about that?"

"…there was a shot at 11. What else is there? One shot, I went up, there was the bellboy and the victim. Case over." Out came the Snackoos again.

Apollo slammed his fist on the bench in a moment of realisation, and pointed with the same hand at Ema.

"Objection!" It had been a while since he'd said that so forcefully, and with so much meaning. The entire court jolted a little in their seats, and even Klavier recoiled a little. Ema simply turned slightly toward him.

"What is it?"

"One gunshot, you say?"

"One."

"Your Honor! Look at the murder weapon! The Court Record clearly states it was fired twice!"

The court began to chatter restlessly again, and the judge silenced them with his gavel.

"Order! So it does, Mr Justice. What are you implying, might I ask?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Apollo folded his arms proudly. "There is a possibility the murder occurred before 11pm! The first shot killed the victim! The shot the witness heard wasn't the killing shot, but the second bullet!"

"Oh…" Ema held her hand to her face. "Never spotted that." Witness the power of scientific observation, thought Apollo.

"Your thoughts, Prosecutor Gavin?" The judge turned to Klavier. He responded with his air-guitar, then spoke.

"Not going to cut it, Herr Forehead."

"What? Why not?"

"Where, exactly, is this 'second bullet'? The police never found it in their investigation. I say it is unrelated to this case, unless the defense can prove otherwise."

Ema nodded in rare agreement with Klavier. "He's right, you know. You can't disprove me without evidence."

"Well, Mr Justice? Have you any proof that this second bullet is, in fact, related to our crime?" The legal system, siding with the prosecution, as per usual. He had to admit that he didn't.

"I-I don't have proof, Your Honor." Apollo slumped over the bench slightly. The case looked almost over.

"Well then, I think we're done here." The gavel sounded. "If there are no more objections, I hereby find-"

"Objection!" Klavier's accent was so recognisable by now, there was no question who had yelled out.

"Prosecutor? B-but you're about to win the trial!" The judge looked more confounded than usual, which was a rare thing to see.

"Winning? There is no such thing in a court of law, Herr Judge." That playful smile. "We're here to establish the truth. There is one more piece of evidence that needs examination before we can reach a verdict." Apollo wasn't sure if Klavier had planned this, or if he himself had screwed up and this was Klavier bailing him out.

"This is irregular. Very well, I will call a brief recess, then we will hear testimony about this evidence!" The gavel sounded once more. Somehow, this time it was less harsh a sound.

Apollo was alone once again in the defendant's lobby, wondering exactly where the defendant was, and how 'difficult' he was being if he still wasn't here almost two hours into the trial. The only other piece of evidence he knew about was the necklace, though he wasn't sure how Klavier would use it, or if the police even knew about it. Either that, or it was something new and he'd have to improvise. Not that that was new.

His internal musings were rudely interrupted by the piercing ring of the transceiver. He fumbled with it in his pocket, almost dropped it, recovered and hit the switch.

"Excellent show, Mr Justice. You certainly do perform well under… pressure."

"What do you want?" The words came out with more contempt than he had wanted, but he hardly regretted it.

"To speak with you. To enquire what your plans are. My client wants to know if there are any arrangements you want to change, and how you intend for this trial to turn out."

Apollo immediately recognised the implication.

"No, de Killer."

"No, what? I wasn't aware a trial could end with a 'no.'"

"I'm not betraying him. That's what you're saying, isn't it? I can betray our deal, behind his back. I'm saying no way, de Killer."

"You are an interesting man, Mr Justice. Either you do not care enough for your item to find a simpler way to get it back, or you trust the prosecutor with it's life." Apollo hadn't thought about it that way.

"Wait a second. How d'you know he's not here right now?"

"I'm watching you. I've been watching you this whole time." A few seconds of heavy silence hung in the air. "One more question, Mr Justice. And a straight one, this time. How _do _you intend to end this trial?"

"…we don't know yet. Right now we're figuring out the truth, but we'll get the true verdict in the end."

"Excellent." On that ominous note, the line went dead.

Apollo stood perfectly still, transceiver in his hand. The recess would be over in ten minutes. Unless Klavier came in and conveniently told him everything about the upcoming testimony, he'd be on his own in court. He leaned backward against the wall, and skimmed over his evidence. He spotted the photo he hadn't had chance to look at, and examined it closely. It was a shot of the roof, with the victim's body, the hotel sign and a tall air vent in view, as well as some party decorations. Five minutes before the recess finished, Klavier came in.

"Justice, I can't tell you everything, but if you're half the attorney I think you are you'll have no problem with this testimony."

"Good to hear. There's something I need to tell you." Apollo filled Klavier in on de Killer's call.

"He's watching us? There goes my plan."

"What plan?"

"I was going to involve the police in a search, but it seems that's impossible now." Klavier fell into silent thought, and stared at the floor.

"Are you sure we can get the right verdict, Klavier?" Apollo didn't let the sudden first-name awkwardness faze him. Klavier looked up.

"I'm more concerned with winning this 'game' than justice right now." Even if he was ridiculously flashy, he was an incredibly competent prosecutor, Apollo thought. He nodded. The bailiff called them back into the courtroom, and the trial reconvened.

"Court is back in session." The judge called for order with his trusty gavel, and turned to Klavier.

"Prosecutor, is the witness ready to testify?"

"Ja, baby." He started clicking his fingers again as Ema came back to the stand. She glared at him. "Ms Skye, if you would be so kind as to tell us about the final piece of evidence." She glared some more, then nodded.

"When I got to the roof, I called the police and had the staff stop anyone from entering or leaving the hotel. The bellboy went downstairs to calm the guests down, while I investigated the scene. There was a pearl necklace caught on the hotel sign right by the corpse. After further examination of the hotel, we found this jewel in the kitchens, covered in blood. It was originally hung on the pearl necklace. The bellboy must have pulled it off during his fight with the victim, then hidden it inside the kitchen. Analysis shows that the blood on the necklace is the victim's. Once we found this evidence, we arrested the bellboy for her murder." Ema looked sure of herself, and her testimony.

"The victim's necklace… very well, your cross-examination, Mr Justice."

"Ms Skye, you were staying in the hotel. Did you see the victim that night, before she was killed?

"No, I didn't. I wasn't exactly in the mood for socialising until the party started."

"You really are my kind of girl," Klavier said. Apollo wasn't sure if it was with admiration or sarcasm. Apollo changed the subject.

"I have a simple question for you, witness. Why didn't you arrest the bellboy immediately? He had the gun in his hand, after all."

"I never jump to conclusions. Science solves cases, not assumptions." Apollo had to agree with her logic, even if there was a gaping hole in her testimony.

"Witness, this jewel-"

"It's called a Magatama, actually. It's a spiritual item, used in the Kurain channelling technique." Ema pulled a face that told the court exactly what she thought about spirit channelling.

"Okay, this Magatama, found in the kitchen… you say it was pulled off during the bellboy's supposed altercation with the victim on the roof? Frankly, I find that hard to believe."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ema began another attack on her Snackoos.

"You think the victim and defendant fought, and the defendant, in the end, shot and killed her, correct?"

"So?"

"You said yourself, the victim's blood was found on the Magatama. If it was torn off _during_ their fight-" Apollo pointed across the courtroom again. That feeling of confidence he felt never lessened however many times he did it. "There shouldn't be any blood on it at all!"

"Aah!" Those poor Snackoos don't stand a chance, Apollo quipped in his head.

"What is the meaning of this, Mr Justice?" the judge asked, ever clueless.

"There is only one possibility, Your Honor. The Magatama was taken off the victim _after_ she was killed!"

"… and?" His Honor was as confused as always.

"Your Honor, imagine you had just shot someone. Would you seriously take off their necklace and hide part of it? The defendant didn't take it off!" He slammed the table. "He was framed for the crime by the real killer!"

Klavier had been quiet the entire testimony, but now he laughed. He stuck his thumbs in his pockets and laughed, silencing the court more effectively than the gavel ever could.

"Ms Skye. Looks like we need that second piece of testimony after all. Herr Forehead is better than I thought." Apollo interpreted that contradiction as the 'easy problem' Klavier had told him about in the lobby. He mentally braced himself.

"Fine." Ema sighed.

"When I got there, the defendant was kneeling over the victim with his back to me, but I could see the gun in his hand. The necklace must have caught on the sign as the victim fell backward after being shot. The Magatama that was hanging on it fell to the ground, and the bellboy picked it up and hid it where he thought no-one would look. Simple, no?"

"Mr Justice, this case seems very clear to me right now. What we need from you is decisive evidence. Your cross-examination, if you will."

Apollo looked over his evidence once more. He couldn't afford any more pointless questions.

"Ms Skye. Really now, you should think before you speak." An idea had formed, he needed just a little more bluff time before he could say it. "You make all sorts of mistakes otherwise."

"What now?"

"You know the basic rules of testimony, correct? You can only testify to what you, yourself, saw with your own eyes. Anything that happened before you reached the scene? The necklace 'must have' caught on the sign as she fell? Where's your evidence? You can't testify about it."

"B-but, wait! I saw him kneeling over the victim! He pulled it off then, and shoved it into his pocket before I got out of the lift! I saw him doing _something_ to the victim's neck!" Apollo knew where this was going now; so suddenly, it had become so clear.

"Ms Skye. Take a look at this photo of the crime scene. As you can clearly see, there is a tall air vent in the foreground here. I went to the roof myself, yesterday. That vent blocked my view of where the victim's corpse would have been, under the hotel sign as pointed out by Detective Gumshoe. Ms Skye, you couldn't possibly have seen my client 'doing something to the victim's neck' before you exited the lift!"

"Mr Justice! Explain this to the court, please!" the judge ordered.

Apollo folded his arms across his chest. "The defense cannot disprove the witness's claims that the defendant removed the necklace, however inaccurate that testimony may be. However! That isn't the point, Your Honor! Ms Skye broke her own rule while testifying – she _assumed_ that the defendant had taken the Magatama from the victim, without evidence. Witness, do you not realize this throws doubt on your earlier claim?"

"Which claim?"

"You clearly testified that you only heard one gunshot that night, but the murder weapon was fired twice. You then agreed with Prosecutor Gavin that it was unrelated. However, if we don't have the bullet here, in this courtroom, how can you possibly say that it is unrelated? Your Honor!" It was now or never. The trial had dragged on long enough for today, and it was almost four in the afternoon by now. "The defense proposes that the first shot from the gun was the shot that killed the victim, and that my client was framed with the necklace and the Magatama. If the prosecution can't disprove me, Your Honor, you can't rule on this case without further investigation!"

The court fell into silence. The judge looked thoughtful for a few seconds, then nodded, and accompanied it with a gavel blow.

"This court agrees with the defense. Both sides will investigate this case further, particularly the relevance of this 'second bullet'. That is all for today. Court is adjourned!" One more cry of the gavel, and the first day of the trial was over. Apollo caught Klavier's eye again across the court, and he was smiling, ever so slightly. Apparently, he'd done a good job.

They met again in the defendant's lobby. Klavier apparently had something to say.

"Good show, Justice. But, first things first, back to the office to plan."

Once back in the safety of the Prosecutor's Office, Klavier's smile looked too big for his face.

"We've got another day to work with, here. We need to split the investigation. One of us needs to go after this bullet, the other has to go ask more questions." Apollo took the 'questions' part. He already knew who he had to go to. He was tired out from the trial, but he didn't let that get in his way. Klavier took the 'bullet' side of things. The police were more willing to co-operate with the prosecution over the defense, and he had easy access to the evidence and testimony.

They left the office, and went their separate ways, both a little more confident that they would triumph over this game. Apollo, on the way to the Detention Center, took the long way around to go past the Anything Agency. He hid behind a wall, and peered in through the front window. Lying on top of Trucy's spare hat was a piece of paper that hadn't been there before. Phoenix had the note, then. Walking away, and ignoring the guilt once more, Apollo promised himself, and Phoenix, that he would win the game for her sake, and Kristoph's, whatever the cost may be to him. He didn't know it, but at the same time, a little further away, Klavier was thinking the exact same thing.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6. I didn't think I'd make it this far into the story. :D There are a few scenes in here that I was really looking forward to writing, and this whole 'writing to the game music' thing is working really nicely. The story is taking shape now, things are working themselves out in my head and I quite like that. If I'm writing late into the night, then go to sleep, chances are the next morning the first thing I'll think of is 'no, that won't work.' This is taking up more and more of my time, but it's worth it to write. Even if no-one else likes this story (which is quite possible, let's face it) I love writing it. So, without further rambling, chapter 6! Reviews and criticisms would be massively loved!

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**Chapter 6**

Checking out his reflection in the doors and making sure that his hair was sticking up suitably, Apollo entered the Detention Center and asked to meet his client for the first time. He was shown through to the familiar grey room with the glass screen cutting it in half, the unchanging guard and the ever-watching camera. He tried to plan his verbal assault while he waited for the bellboy to show up. After a few minutes, the bellboy walked in, holding his hand up in a strange way, fingers splayed. Obviously he was used to walking while holding a tray, and even in its absence that muscle memory was there. He took his seat.

"Good afternoon, sir. Can I help you?" He flashed the pleasant smile that Apollo had come to expect from hotel staff. It creeped him out slightly.

"Uh, yes. I'm your attorney, I wanted to ask a few questions."

"Very well, sir. I'm afraid room service is delayed for the time being, but I do have the capacity for answering questions." Apollo had to admire him, even if he didn't want to admit it. People didn't usually hold themselves together this well after stumbling upon a murder victim – unless they were the killer. He put the thought out of his head and began with light conversation.

"I thought Gatewater had a theme park, not hotels. Where do you come into it?"

"The Gatewater Hotel branched out a number of years ago, sir. There is a thriving theme park in the area, though my one and only priority is the hotel. I tried working in the park, sir, but it didn't have the same atmosphere." Apollo cut him off as politely as he could, and got to the real question.

"Can you tell me what happened that night?"

"Which night?"

"The night of the murder at the hotel." For some reason he had been expecting the question, and wasn't shocked in the least when it came.

"Ah, I remember it well. I went up to the roof at 11pm, and discovered the corpse of the unfortunate victim. Naturally, I looked closer – I do so enjoy detective stories, you know – and saw the murderous pistol lying by the victim. I picked it up in my… right hand, I believe, and pointed it forward. I had never held a gun before, you see, I was… taken by the moment, you could say."

"… go on. What next?"

"That is all I can remember with clarity, sir. My next memory after that is hazy, but I remember the labcoat-clad detective telling me to calm everyone down in the hotel lobby while she investigated."

"Why can't you remember?"

"I can't remember," the bellboy said simply. Again, Apollo was somewhat expecting it. Not much to go on there.

"So why did you go up there in the first place?"

"That, sir, is another detail I don't quite recall. I was serving at the party, and, the next thing I knew, I was on the roof." Apollo repressed his comment about teleportation being a strictly sci-fi thing.

"You don't 'quite' recall? So, you remember something, even if only slightly?"

"There was… a note, sir. Though its exact contents, its source or its current location, I cannot be sure. But I remember being sent to the roof via note." This changed things up.

"A note, huh…" Apollo thought for a few seconds. "No idea who sent it at all?"

"Not a one, sir."

"Or the reason why you were sent there?"

"None." This guy wasn't helping much. This first talk with his client hadn't exactly been as enlightening as he had planned.

"One last question. Mr… ah, well, uh… did you do it? Did you shoot the victim?"

"No, sir. I happened across her lifeless corpse, but that was all." No reaction from his bracelet, and Apollo assumed that to mean he was telling the truth.

"Right, well, I think I'll be going. I have to build your case, after all." Apollo stood up, and turned to leave.

"Wright… that name is familiar to me."

Apollo turned back. "What? Oh, I didn't mean –wait, Wright? You mean you know him?"

"I met him, in court. Yes, that spiky-haired attorney in the blue suit. I knew him well. Oh, to be cross-examined so! It was a dream come true, I tell you!"

Apollo left the bellboy to his reminiscence and left the Detention Center. His next order of business was to follow this lead, and confront a demon that had been following him since day one of the game – talking to Phoenix.

A while later, he was at the door of the Anything Agency. He stepped inside, gave Charley another prod and spotted the note he had left. It was still lying on Trucy's hat, and he went over and re-read it. He was still holding it when Phoenix came in.

"Thought I heard someone. Greetings, Apollo. What can I do you for? I thought you had a case," he asked amiably.

"I do, I just wanted to ask some… uh, advice." He looked back down at the letter he had forged.

"That came through the door yesterday. She's staying with a friend." Apollo had a last-minute moral debate about telling him the truth. In the end, he decided not to. De Killer was watching, after all.

"Oh, good. I'll fill her in on the case when she gets back." Every word pained him, but it was for the best.

"So what advice did you want? My defense powers have weakened over time, I'm afraid."

"It's my client. He says he knows you well, Mr Wright, that he's met you in court!"

Phoenix looked up sharply. "Who is it?"

"A bellboy in the hotel opposite."

"Oh." Phoenix looked downhearted.

"Can you tell me anything? He's not being very forthcoming."

Phoenix began to explain. "He was a witness in a case, a long time ago. His testimony was, what's the word, interesting to say the least. Be wary of cross-examining him, he has a habit of holding back on vital details."

"He won't be testifying tomorrow, I don't think."

"Oh, that's right, you and Gavin are working this together, aren't you? How's that working out? More to the point, how many fights to the death have you had yet?"

Apollo laughed. "It's working out fine, actually. It's nice to be semi-prepared for once."

"Working together with a prosecutor is tough. Good luck, Apollo." Phoenix was completely sincere. "Any more of my, ahem, expert advice I can give you?"

Apollo decided to ask about Gumshoe. Phoenix had been an attorney once, maybe he knew the guy. "There was this detective called Gumshoe-"

"Oh, he was a laugh a minute. Always cheerful, even if the evidence was completely against him. You've met him, have you?"

"I'm not sure we're talking about the same guy, here. He looked like he was going to cry any second while he was on the stand today."

"Really? Then it must be serious. Any idea why?"

"He seemed to react the most when I asked him about the victim."

"There's that Gramarye power coming into play. Who was it?"

"Some kid called Pearl Fey. Went up to the roof of the hotel, got shot and killed…." Apollo trailed off. Phoenix was staring at him forcefully, his breathing shallow.

"Say that again. The victim's name." He couldn't look Apollo in the eye.

"…Pearl Fey? Did you know her, Mr Wright?"

Phoenix turned around, and leaned on the table. This seemed familiar. He reached out and picked up a photo frame from the table with a now shaking hand. Apollo caught a quick glance at it. It seemed to be of Mr Wright in his attorney days, with a girl of about eighteen and a little girl of about nine. They were all smiling at the camera; it looked like the photo had been taken in the defendant lobby, and they'd just won a case. From the apparent age of the photo, Apollo guessed the little girl, now grown up, was the victim. Phoenix stared down at it in silence, speaking after what felt, to him, like an eternity.

"She was… a friend. How old would she be now? Fifteen, sixteen? And she was killed?" Phoenix faced Apollo again, and either didn't notice or didn't care that there were tears forming in his eyes. "Find the guy that did it. I don't care if it's your own client, find the guy and take him down." He was speaking fiercely now, even though his voice was shaking.

"We plan to, Mr Wright."

Phoenix nodded, then turned and left the room without another word, still holding the photo frame. Apollo left the agency, and headed for Klavier's office, deciding to keep the end of the conversation to himself.

Klavier had been busy. Once the trial had finished for the day, he headed to Criminal Affairs to ask around about the 'second bullet' issue. He heard more than a few detectives cursing Apollo's name as he walked by them. It seemed they thought they already had the case in the bag before he proved them wrong. Klavier couldn't help smiling to himself. Defense attorneys thought they had no power at all over the police; turned out, the right evidence in the right place seriously messed up their investigations. He found Gumshoe, and called him aside into an empty questioning room.

"How goes the investigation, detective?" Being as vague as possible, experience told him, gave the other guy the chance to answer the next question before you asked it.

"We've got a grand total of one new piece of evidence, sir. The Chief didn't think it was important, but I've got the details here." Gumshoe handed Klavier a teatray with a chipped cup on it.

"…thank you, detective." Not the most decisive thing, but maybe it could be useful somehow.

"It was found at the scene during the investigation. The bellboy dropped it when he saw the body, we think." Gumshoe scratched his head.

"Anything else you found out about the murder weapon?" Gumshoe didn't need any further prompting.

"Mr Gavin, sir, we have no idea where this other bullet could be. We're trying to figure out whose gun it was right now."

"Any ideas?"

"None. The little ID number got scratched off the side. We can't trace it."

"Hmm. Do you know when the other shot was fired? If it was some time after the murder, Justice doesn't stand a chance tomorrow." Klavier hoped he wasn't damaging the case too much. He had faith in Apollo to find every last flaw in any testimony he could put up, but even he couldn't argue with cold evidence.

"Good point, pal. But there's no way we can figure it out. No-one's really taking this seriously, anyway. They-" Gumshoe indicated the detectives in the other room, busy sat around a table throwing dice –"-they think you'll just rip apart anything that Justice kid can throw at you."

"Ach, they need to stop underestimating him. I did that once or twice. Never again. He could be as good as Wright was, given more time of course."

Gumshoe didn't look convinced. "Can't deny he's good, but I don't think anyone could ever be _that_ good. He's passionate though, I'll give him that." He has to be, thought Klavier. He always acts like everything's on the line, this time it actually is.

"Speaking of passionate, your testimony was a little… strange today."

"Sorry, sir. It's just, I knew the victim, see. She was a friend of Wright's way back when. Wonder if he knows by now. She was just a k-kid…" Gumshoe quietened. Klavier nodded, and patted his arm as he made to leave the room.

"I'm leaving for the hotel, detective. Try to, uh, inspire them a little, ja?"

Klavier pulled up to the hotel on his bike. Riding around like he owned the place never got old. Kristoph used to tell him off for going too fast, and he never listened. He tried not to think too much about Kristoph. The worry constantly gnawed at the back of his mind, but he knew Apollo was more likely to be affected by it than he would be. If he couldn't hold himself together, Apollo wouldn't stand a chance. He walked in to the hotel, not exactly relishing the task ahead.

Normally he hated doing the investigative legwork, but he'd agreed to do it and he stayed true to his word. Apollo had told him before about his trip to the roof and the kitchens, so he could skip on those. He decided to check out two rooms – the bellboy's, and Ema's. Bellboy's first, and that took him down into the little corridor that led to the kitchen. He found the right room, and went in.

Klavier, the Rockin' Prosecutor, had never seen such a tidy room in his entire life, and he'd lived with Kristoph for over half of it. Not a single thing was out of place. Bed perfectly made, tables perfectly arranged, and a neat little bookshelf in one corner that was organised into alphabetical order. Klavier set to work, trashing the place to see if he could find anything relating to his case. He looked under the bed, inside the closet (at least five identical uniforms in there) and even in his little refrigerator. It was only when he got to the filing cabinet that he found something interesting.

There were guest files arranged in order of surname. A to F, G to L, M to R and S to Z. Four drawers. The fifth, at the bottom and almost empty, read 'Unknown.' Klavier looked in, and saw a crumpled piece of paper. He took it out, smoothed it a little against his knee and read it.

"Bellboy,

Get to the roof at 11pm after the party, I will require your services."

The note was unsigned, and written in a precise but fancy hand. Klavier noted the time and date as that of the discovery of the body. He had wondered why the bellboy had even gone up there, but didn't point it out in court because he assumed (correctly) that Apollo would have no real counter for it. He would hand it to the police later for a handwriting analysis, but for the time being he moved on to Ema's room, attempting to tidy up a little before he left for the first time in years.

Klavier took the lift to the top floor, below the roof, and came out in a fancy, old-fashioned corridor with four doors either side. Ema's room was 404, and he opened the door, not knowing what to expect from it.

Ema's room didn't look exactly homely. She hadn't brought much with her to the hotel, then again she was only here for security. Her suitcase had been thrown on the bed and opened. Her spare coat was hanging out of it, and there were a few scientific-looking things in there. Klavier poked around in there, and almost spilled her fingerprint powder over her bed. He carefully put everything back as it was – he knew she would notice if the slightest thing was different in her room - and paced around the bed, eventually stopping by her window. He rubbed some of the condensation off with the curtain, and looked out.

It was six o'clock, and night was just beginning to fall over the city. Lights from the nearby buildings and streets were turning on, one by one, and the normal night-time city view was forming. He craned his neck and looked up as far as he could. The neon 'Gatewater Hotel' was slowly brightening, and it clashed violently with the interior of the hotel. There was no-one else on this floor the night of the murder, save for the victim herself. Ema was the only person that night who could have heard a sound from the roof. Klavier knew there wasn't a whole lot more to the room than this, and he left, closing the door gently behind him. He rode back to the precinct, handed in the note for analysis (he didn't feel it necessary to mention that he had copied it for himself) and made his way back to his office to rendezvous with Apollo.

The two met again at 6:30pm, in the Prosecutor's Office. Klavier got there first, and was strumming idly on his guitar when Apollo knocked the door. Klavier let him in, and they sat on the floor again, comparing notes. Apollo spoke of what the bellboy and Phoenix had told him about the victim. When he mentioned the note the bellboy had found, Klavier took out the note he had found and copied. He explained what he had found – the note, and the teatray the bellboy had dropped in shock. Once they were on equal ground, Apollo asked a question he almost didn't dare to ask.

"So, what verdict do we go for?"

"Justice, you say your… bracelet didn't react? So that means he's innocent." Apollo had never been convinced that Klavier believed in his 'power', but apparently he did.

"That means we go for a guilty tomorrow."

"Indeed. Considering the current state of your case, that shouldn't be a problem."

"I hate the fact that I have to agree. Did you get anything about the other bullet?"

"Nein, nothing. We'll have to improvise tomorrow."

"Testimony?"

"That Atmey guy. Should be an interesting character."

Klavier knowingly raised one eyebrow, then picked up his guitar. Apollo made to leave, but when Klavier played the 'Guitar's Serenade', ever so softly, he stayed to listen. The song reminded him of so much. Reuniting with his mother, even if he didn't know at the time, and being told the entire truth about Trucy… He closed his eyes, bowed his head slightly and listened in silence, not noticing that he was playing with his bracelet. It was the only physical link he had to his past – it had always been there, safely on his wrist. He ran his fingers over the familiar patterns, eyes still closed. Klavier finished the song, then played it again. Even though he'd vowed never to play it again, now seemed an appropriate time. He was staring at Apollo, the notes still so ingrained in his memory that he didn't need to look. The song finished again, and Klavier stopped playing. Apollo realised what he was doing, and rubbed his eyes. The last sleepless night caught up to him, and fatigue hit him like a wave. He fell backward, asleep before he hit the floor.

Klavier grabbed a spare coat, and threw it over Apollo. He realised he had literally played a lullaby for the guy, and had to stifle a laugh. He picked up all the evidence files from the floor, dropped it on the table and began writing. He and Apollo were supposed to work the court papers together, but Klavier didn't have the heart to wake him up. He had to file the papers that would give them their places in court tomorrow. For the first time, he believed completely that, if all went to plan, they had this game won.

If all went to plan, he thought. That was the thing, with someone like de Killer pulling the strings, how could they guarantee that?


	7. Chapter 7

****This is rather a long chapter, a lot happens in this one :D Also, I probably should have mentioned this before, it's not terribly important, but I'll say it anyway. Judging by the views graph thing, most of the wonderful readers of this story are from the US. Writer here is from the UK, and as such she spells some words a bit differently. My default spelling of the word 'honor' is the US way because of Ace Attorney, but words like 'favourite' I spell the UK way. Not important, but eh. This story is actually getting somewhere now :D Enjoy this chapter, folks!

(also, there's someone I've written for here that I really felt I had trouble keeping in character. Can you guess who? xD)

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**Chapter 7**

Klavier awoke to the sound of grumbling. It wasn't the kind of grumbling that he himself was well-known for; it was the kind that had had to wait before being let out. Apollo, of course, he thought. He was poking around with the evidence, once again. This was the first time Klavier had heard him even slightly complaining about what they were doing. Before Klavier could think any further, sleep threatened to claim him again.

A minute or two went by while his thoughts reassembled in his head, and eventually he blinked himself almost completely awake, sitting up. It was only at that moment that he fully remembered the last night. This wasn't a hangover or anything, this was waking up from a deep, deep sleep.

He was sat at his desk, pen in hand. Was he writing something before he fell asleep? Wasn't usually his thing. He caught sight of the transceiver to his right, and sighed. That was it. He hadn't slept at all since the game began. He was busy with paperwork, and had literally dropped into dreamworld right in the middle of it. He remembered that it was the court papers, the attorney-request ones, and that the trial was TODAY and he hadn't filed it. Panic set in, until he saw a relatively neatly written note to his left.

'Don't panic, I finished the papers (didn't want to wake you) and filed them while you were asleep. Just in time too. We're still in it.

Justice'

Klavier laughed in his head. He hadn't wanted to wake Apollo up, and apparently he'd returned the favour. He yawned loudly, and heard an impatient groan from behind him. Klavier guessed it wasn't a serious one.

'Ugh, about time, Gavin.' Apollo was holding the bag with the Magatama in an inch in front of his face, presumably looking for any more details they could have missed.

'What time is it?' Klavier spun around in his chair.

'Half six.'

'Far too early.'

'We did get to sleep fairly early.' Apollo grinned.

'Did we?'

'I fell asleep when you played that song, I think, about 6:30. And considering the only thing written on those papers when I woke up was 'Attorney Request – Ap' and then a huge line down the page, you weren't far behind me. I left it there as a memento.'

Klavier looked on his desk. True enough, there it was. Midway through the name, a thin black line went three-quarters of the way down the page. He turned back around, started smiling, and then couldn't hold it back anymore. The two of them laughed like never before. It wasn't forced or unnatural, it was the kind that erupts when two friends make idiots of themselves. They needed it after the days of stress they had had. Apollo was the first to speak.

'So, anyway, back to business. What's planned for today?'

'Atmey. I'm going to have to wing it. We were supposed to find out about the second shot, but we never did. And I need that handwriting analysis back.'

'Might be useful.' Apollo stood up. 'Anything to eat in here?'

'Vending machine, floor below.'

Apollo left Klavier to wake up properly, and made for the lower floor.

The game was surprisingly far from his thoughts. He had picked up on Klavier's feeling of optimism, and was beginning to feel it himself. As he got to the vending machine, he allowed himself to think of Trucy for the first time. Held captive, probably terrified (but insisting she wasn't), did she know about the game? Did she know her brother and his friend were fighting for her safety, and Kristoph's? For the first time, he realised he thought of Klavier as a friend rather than rival. They were going through the same thing, after all, it was natural some kind of bond had formed. He shook his head - it sounded ridiculous. This wasn't a story. It was cold reality. They had a game they had to win. That was all. He turned back to the office, forgetting about the vending machine in the process.

Klavier made no comment about his lack of food.

'We have a couple of hours before we need to go. Any suggestions?' Apollo had none.

'We've got all the evidence we can find for now, right?'

'Just remember not to blow it all in one go. Conserve yourself, you'll need an ace or two in the next trial.' Apollo nodded in response. Klavier left for some last-minute preparation of Atmey's testimony, leaving Apollo alone in his office. Before he left, he placed something on the floor in front of Apollo.

'You might want this. It's a spare. And you can use my favourite chair if you want.' He left the room with a swish of his jacket. He had left a key behind. Apollo tried it in the office door. It clicked sharply, and he turned it back. Spare key to the office. Looked like he was locking up. He picked up the evidence files from the floor, and sat down hard on the chair. He gave it one spin, leaned back, and read the autopsy report one more time. He knew every word, every last detail about these pieces of evidence now. He could probably recite the reports from memory backwards. But it never hurt to be sure. At 8:30am, he left the office and biked to the courthouse, locking the door behind him.

Just before 9am, the two met once more in the defendant's lobby. Klavier had something important to say.

'Justice. Handwriting analysis is back. It's interesting.'

'Who is it?'

'None other than Luke Atmey, ex-detective.'

'Ah.' Apollo let the implications of it sink in. 'So he's a suspect now?'

'Looks like it. Except it won't help us get a guilty verdict. So keep it back until tomorrow, ja? I'll pretend I never told you, you pretend you don't know about it, everything's 'fine', as you say.' Klavier gave him the report. There was a picture of Atmey attached to the front.

'This guy looks interesting.'

'Recently released murderer, don't forget. The court won't be very… ah, accepting of him, shall we say.'

'Oh yeah.' Apollo didn't admit he had forgotten, but it didn't take a Gramarye to figure that out. Klavier didn't mention it.

'It's time. Shall we?' They entered the courtroom.

The judge took his seat. The crowd in the gallery followed suit, and the trial began.

'Court is now in session for the trial of the, er, bellboy.'

'The defense is ready, Your Honor.'

'Prosecution is locked and loaded.' Klavier did his finger-gun point across the court.

'Very well, then we begin. How did the investigation into the second bullet go, Prosecutor Gavin?'

'Unsuccessfully, Herr Judge. No evidence was found to either prove or disprove Herr Forehead's claim. However, we have something else.'

'Oh really? What's that?'

'Testimony. There was a witness. A witness who can shine a light on the darkness of this crime!' Klavier's metaphors were getting weirder by the trial, thought Apollo.

'Thank you, Prosecutor. Please admit this witness to the stand.'

A few minutes later, a man took the stand. He looked even stranger in real life than he did in his picture. He had blonde hair, but the sides were black (Apollo guessed one of the two was dye) and his nose seemed to extend at least two inches longer than was usual. He was polishing his monocle while walking to the stand, and now he stared intently at everyone, holding his white-gloved hand up by his shoulder at an odd angle.

'Once again I find myself behind this stand. And yet-' he held his monocle in front of one eye. Apollo realised it was actually a magnifying glass – 'yet you do not seem to realise my life's one true purpose.' The judge looked confused, and moved for his gavel. 'One moment, Sir Judge! While I am here, he is escaping me!'

'Who is, witness?'

'The masked marauder, of course! The one who dares to defy the Ace Detective who is currently gracing you with his presence!'

'And who is this, uh, 'marauder'?'

'A successor to Mask DeMasque, of course. I refer to-' he paused dramatically –' DeMasque the Third!' The court was silent.

'Mask DeMasque? There's a name I remember… yes! It was that case with the coffee prosecutor and that mad detective. I remember now… wait a moment, witness!' The judge's ramblings to himself were interrupted with the sudden outburst. 'You were the killer in that case! Luke Atmey!'

'…Indeed I was, Sir Judge. Your memory is impeccable.' Atmey was smiling, but there was a sinister edge to it now.

'Herr Judge, he was recently paroled for good behaviour, and for showing genuine intent for reformation of his ways.' Klavier was reading from a report, and looked amused. Atmey nodded proudly.

'I'm not sure I like this… very well, Prosecutor, go ahead.'

'Thank you. Witness, the judge has already spoiled the surprise, but go ahead and tell us your name and occupation anyway.'

'My earthly name is Luke Atmey. I am, how shall I say, a freelance detective. I solve brilliantly difficult crimes with my deductive wit, all for a handsome fee, of course.'

'You were at the hotel the night of the murder?' Apollo asked.

'That I was, Mr Attorney.' Apollo tried not to be annoyed that he, too, wasn't considered a Sir. 'Shall I articulate my anecdote of my adventures?'

'We're all listening, witness. Hit it!' Klavier gave them a complimentary air guitar song, and Atmey began his testimony.

'On the night of April 12th, a girl was tragically shot dead on the roof of the Gatewater Hotel. Naturally, the killer was unaware that I, Luke Atmey, was present that night, or he never would have dared to make so bold a move! However. The deed was done, the victim lying dead among the festive decor. And there was the bellboy, pistol in hand. It doesn't take a mind of my calibre to work this out, does it, Mr Attorney?'

Apollo began his cross-examination. He had a plan, but had to know where to stop.

'Mr Atmey, if I may ask, why were _you_ there that night?'

'I was there to foil the dastardly plans of my arch-nemesis, the thief DeMasque III! There is a great treasure in the hotel that he oh-so-dearly wanted to get his hands on, and I was there to prevent such an atrocity.'

'It sounds like you think theft is a worse crime than murder,' Apollo said, confused. The judge gave him an odd look.

'Halting the devilish thief in his efforts is my life's purpose! Solving a murder is secondary. I managed to defeat him once, but he passed the title on to another while I was languishing behind bars. Now the name has passed once more, and the circle continues.' Apollo cut him off.

'So what was he after?'

'His calling card stated he was after the 'Screwdriver of Fate'.' The court went silent. Apollo let Atmey ramble on; he was curious as to why something so mundane could have a name like that.

'A long time ago, according to my gathered intelligence, the bellboy of the hotel was involved in a most serious murder case. The aforementioned screwdriver was a vital clue in solving it, or so I'm told. That case is the reason the hotel has its current nickname; 'The Gatewater Hotel – Murder Manor'.'

'…right.'

'There is my reason for being there, Mr Attorney. Alas, the man himself never showed. He knew he didn't have what it takes to defeat Luke Atmey, and never appeared! Shall I go on?'

'Wait! There's one more thing I want to ask you.' Here goes, thought Apollo. 'What did you think when you saw the scene of the crime?'

'What idiocy is this, I hear? I wasn't at the scene at the time of the murder. I was focused entirely on defeating DeMasque III!'

'That's what I thought.' Apollo folded his arms, smiling confidently.

'W-what?' Atmey physically recoiled.

'Mr Atmey, for a detective, you seem to miss the details. You described the scene in your testimony – 'the victim lying dead among the festive décor'. How did you know that? How did you know what the roof looked like? There is only one possibility, as far as I can see - you were at the scene of the crime that night!'

'I-it would appear so, yes. But what does that prove? My own excellent reasoning provided those conclusions.' Atmey recovered from his logical stumble, and continued. ' Furthermore, I distinctly remember going to the roof that night, for the purposes of catching out DeMasque III. That is where I saw those decorations. Zvarri! An elegant deduction!' Atmey examined Apollo through his monocle, smiled, and carried on. 'You can't prove that I have anything to do with the murder, Attorney! '

Apollo held back a little. 'T-that's true, but the possibility's there!' He pointed as confidently as he could.

'Ha! 'Possibility', you say! May I remind you we are in a court of law? We are here to talk about concrete proof, not mere conjecture!'

'As much as I hate to say this, the witness is right, Herr Forehead. You need something a little more decisive.' Klavier was smiling, but his eyes told a different story. He seemed to be silently saying 'let this one slide.' Apollo trusted him, and breathed deeply.

'Well, Mr Justice? Do you have any proof to link our witness and the murder?'

'…No, Your Honor.' He flattened his hair, and it pinged back up.

'Hmm! Justice, was it? You'll have a hard time getting any 'justice' if you can't prove your claims!' Atmey's voice was beginning to grate on him.

'That's enough, witness.' Klavier slammed his fist on the wall behind him. 'Shall we move on?'

'There's more?' the judge asked.

'Indeed, Sir Judge. I have more to say.'

'Then give us your testimony,' the judge ordered. Apollo wasn't entirely sure he liked where this was going, but he raised no objection. Klavier obviously had a plan of some sort, he didn't intend to mess it up.

'It is true I went to the roof that night, for the purpose of facing DeMasque III. But for the time being, this is not important. What is important is what I saw just before 11pm. I saw the bellboy in the corridor of the top floor, concealing – very poorly, I must say – a handgun in his jacket. Naturally, I kept an eye on him. He was heading for the lift, and he went up to the roof, for the express purpose of the murder of one Pearl Fey!'

Apollo had an obvious question, and didn't even wait for the judge to tell him to cross-examine. He had a strange feeling that he couldn't quite pinpoint.

'Mr Atmey, how do you know so much about this case? You know some details that the public don't yet have access to.'

'I spent the morning with the charming purple prosecutor there. I caught a glimpse of the official police reports.' Atmey smiled smugly, as if sneaking a look at confidential reports was something to be proud of. Klavier looked annoyed, but shrugged.

'Not that it matters much. You could have worked it out yourself, being a detective and all.'

'Why, I am an _Ace_ Detective, Sir Prosecutor!'

'So, uh,' Apollo interjected. 'Are you sure it was the defendant?'

'He had the bellboy's uniform and face. It was, without a doubt, him.'

'And he was hiding a handgun, you say?'

'But of course. It was a handgun, nothing more. I state it here, it is therefore true. There is no room for error in the testimony of Luke Atmey.' Apollo's inner angry monologue about this guy's overbearing vanity was cut short by the same strange feeling. He realised instantly what it was. His bracelet was tightening around his wrist. He felt the same feeling of anticipation he always did when that happened, and he asked Atmey to repeat himself, touching his bracelet. The familiar swirling sensation enveloped him as he entered a state of extreme focus.

'He had the bellboy's uniform and face. It was, without a doubt, him.'

'But of course. It was a handgun, nothing more.'

'I state it here, it is therefore true. '

'There is no room for error in the testimony of Luke Atmey.'

Apollo focused on Atmey's hands as he spoke. As soon as he said the words 'no room for error', Apollo saw his chance.

'Gotcha!' he yelled, and Atmey flinched a little. 'You've given yourself away, Atmey.' He remembered to play it down for the sake of tomorrow's trial, and he quietened his voice just a little.

'What is the meaning of this?' Atmey was sweating like crazy now, and Apollo broke the news.

'You clean that monocle an awful lot, don't you, Mr Atmey?'

'Of course. A detective must have keen vision and an inquiring mind, an Ace Detective even more so.' Said with such pride, thought Apollo, and we all know what comes after pride.

'You were cleaning it with that cloth just now, in fact. Except there's a little problem. As soon as you said the words 'no room for error', you fumbled a little.'

'A-and? What could that possibly prove?'

'That there is, in fact, room for error in your testimony. You stated just now that my client had a 'handgun, nothing else', correct? And then your nervous habit kicked in. I think you're lying, Atmey.' Apollo spoke perfectly calmly.

'Lying? Where is your proof, may I ask?' Apollo couldn't see Klavier in this state, but he went ahead with it. He couldn't back out now.

'Here's your proof, Atmey. The bellboy was doing room service at the time, and he dropped this tray when he went to the roof! If you really had seen him on his way there, you should have seen the tray as well!'

'Aaargh!' Time seemed to freeze temporarily, and then Apollo was back in the courtroom. Atmey still looked frozen in shock. Klavier was smiling.

'What does this mean, Mr Justice?' the judge asked.

'Yes, Mr Attorney, what _does _this mean? I neglected to mention the tray in my testimony, what exactly does this prove, may I ask?'

'It proves one thing, Mr Atmey.'

'What?'

'That you are no Ace Detective!' Klavier almost choked with laughter at Apollo's unexpected remark. The judge wasn't amused.

'…Mr Justice, can we see something more relevant please?' The judge banged the gavel. Apollo had screwed up on purpose, to weaken the impact of his next objection.

'Mr Atmey, you didn't mention the teatray when you described the bellboy. If I were describing a bellboy, the tray would be the first thing that came to mind! Who else in the hotel would have one?'

Atmey looked visibly pained. 'Y-yes, well… the tray was found at the scene, yes?'

'Yes, so?'

'What if someone else took it up there? That must be it. I saw him go up with the gun, and someone else went up with the tray.' Apollo didn't understand how he could look so proud, yet be so wrong. His natural instinct to contradict everything kicked in, until he remembered the point of today's trial. Time for some acting.

'That… that's just dumb!' he shouted.

'It is a possibility, however strange it may sound.' Luke Atmey: Ace Hypocrite, thought Apollo. He was holding the note that Klavier found in the hotel in his pocket, but he didn't take it out.

'Mr Justice? Can you disprove the witness? If you can't, then you must accept that Mr Atmey is telling the truth.'

'Bear in mind that if you can't do this, Herr Forehead, you don't have a case.' Klavier jumped in, and Apollo pressed on, knowing what he had to do.

'I don't have any proof, Your Honor. But-'

'Then we must accept Mr Atmey's version of events.'

'But the defense just proved that he could have-'

'Mr Justice. You have failed to prove your client's innocence. Trying to throw doubt on the witness without supporting evidence is an underhand move, to say the least.' His Honor could be an idiot at times, but when he meant it he _meant _it.

'Ngggh!' Apollo recoiled, having to resist every urge to look over to Klavier for a confirmation of how good his acting was.

'If that is all, Mr Justice…The court accepts that the witness states the truth; that the bellboy went to the roof of the Gatewater Hotel on the night of the 12th, for the purpose of killing Ms Pearl Fey.'

Klavier laughed a little. 'Your first loss, Herr Forehead. Tell me,' he asked, leaning forward. 'How does it feel?'

Apollo stayed silent. He knew this verdict was completely wrong, but this was the plan. He couldn't back out now.

'Well, if there is no more evidence to be presented, I am in a position to deliver my verdict. I hereby find the defendant, the bellboy of the Gatewater Hotel, guilty of murder. The accused will surrender to the court immediately, to be held pending trial at a higher court within a month from today's date. That is all. Court is adjourned!'

The final gavel blow of the trial hit home with an air of finality, and the optimism Apollo had felt that morning vanished when he needed it the most.

Apollo was sat down cross-legged on the sofa in the defendant's lobby, waiting for Klavier. He was leaning forward, head resting on his hand. His head was a swirl of thoughts. The plan was working so far. He knew the bellboy would get a retrial, and that he himself would be there to get the right verdict. He knew Klavier wouldn't stab him in the back. He was fairly confident that they would win. But there was still a tiny seed of doubt, constantly blooming in his mind. No matter how much he tried to convince himself that this was the right path, the knowledge that he had just given an innocent man a guilty verdict – on purpose, no less – that doubt wouldn't leave.

He looked up at the door when Klavier walked in, but didn't move at all. He simply stared, waiting for Klavier to make the first move. He'd just won his part of the trial, but he didn't seem too happy about it. Apollo guessed, correctly, that they were both feeling the same thing. Klavier twisted round and closed the courtroom door behind him, then turned back into the lobby, hand still resting on the door handle. They stared each other in the eye for a few seconds that seemed to stretch on forever.

'One down.' Apollo wasn't expecting to hear anything from himself, but the words came out on their own. 'We're halfway. Now we need to figure out who actually did it.'

Klavier looked away and nodded. 'And my part's done. As long as nothing goes seriously wrong in the retrial, we're good to go.'

Silence fell again. Then Klavier took a deep breath, clapped his hands quietly in front of him and walked forward. He sat down next to Apollo on the arm of the sofa.

'Justice. There's something I've been thinking about. Now seems like a good time to get it off my chest.' Klavier was a legendary whiner, but Apollo knew it was more serious that a missed cue this time.

'What is it?'

'De Killer.' The name still sounded heavy, and Klavier paused for a second before continuing. 'You remember what he said, the first time we spoke to him?'

'Pretty much.'

'That he was working to his client's wishes, ja?'

'I get it. You want to know who his client is.'

'I want to know who's behind all of this, yes.'

'But shouldn't we be focusing on the retrial for now? We can figure out who's behind this later, unless you've got an idea right now.'

'To be frank… I have no clue. You're right, Justice. Back to the office, sort out this retrial, then we'll talk about the client.'

The constant trips backwards and forwards, office and courthouse, gave Apollo thinking time. Now Klavier had brought up the client, he couldn't get the question out of his head. Who was it that had set up the game? Who was it pulling the strings; the one behind de Killer? He didn't have the slightest clue where to start with narrowing down the field, but decided to put off any more thought on the matter until Klavier brought it up again. He turned his attention to the road, doing his best to remember which ways Klavier turned on his bike as he pedalled after him.

Once back in the office, they set to work. Klavier began writing the retrial papers, sitting in his favourite chair, and Apollo, sat on the floor, began brainstorming ideas for his defense. He had an ace – Atmey's note was, at the least, proof of his involvement – but it wasn't enough on its own. It was almost 7 o'clock when Klavier finished writing. He dropped the pen down with a dramatic flourish.

'There. They won't be happy, I'm calling for a retrial on grounds of lacking evidence.' Klavier smiled to himself. 'So we'll need something new tomorrow.'

'It'll definitely be tomorrow?'

'All being well.'

They pooled together everything they had picked up the last few days. The autopsy report and case files, the completed necklace, the murder weapon, roof plans, photo of the scene, Atmey's note, the teatray, and the transceiver. Klavier pulled his jacket off, threw it to one side, and sighed, cracking his knuckles loudly.

'Never prepared a defense before, but there's a first time for everything. Where do you start, Justice?' he asked. Apollo had to admit that he didn't prepare too much for trials.

'I just kind of go with it.'

'Just kind of going with it isn't going to help. We need something better.' Klavier stood up. 'Give me five minutes, the vending machine is singing her siren song.' He went to the door. 'Keep going without me, tell me what I missed when I get back.' He left, footsteps getting quieter until they faded into silence. Apollo kept on working, trying to figure out a workable theory in his head.

There was one thing he kept coming back to. His main attack in the first trial was based on the second bullet. Now he thought about it in detail, did it matter at all? If it was fired before the murder, it was irrelevant and the bellboy was the murderer. If it was after… The bellboy would be the only one who could have fired it, and why would he do that? So there were two options. Number one, the bellboy was the killer. Number two was more unlikely, but the one he had to go with.

The 'real killer' killed the victim, then left the roof. A while later, the bellboy goes up and finds her dead. Then, he… fired the second shot? Why would anyone do that? That didn't make any sense. But, that was preferable to a guilty. _Anything_ was, Apollo thought, all things considered.

He glanced at his watch, and when he saw that half an hour had gone by since Klavier had left, he started to wonder where he had gone. Queue at the vending machine, he thought, and smiled.

The transceiver went off with its piercing ring, and Apollo jolted hard enough to drop his pen. Mentally cursing the fact that Klavier yet again wasn't here, Apollo hit the switch. The cold voice the other end never failed to give him the chills.

'Your timing is off, de Killer.' Apollo opened the conversation. He thought it would give him the upper hand, but he wasn't sure why.

'I believe my timing is perfectly accurate, Mr Justice. Has the prosecutor not just vacated the room?'

'…You wanted to speak to me on my own?'

'I have been ordered by my client to inform you of a, er, 'rule change', shall we say.' Apollo stayed silent for a few seconds before answering.

'What the hell is going on, de Killer.' He didn't mean it as a question and it didn't sound like one. His voice was flat and emotionless.

'When I proposed your first idea to my client, they seemed to think that you had gained an advantage. As such, I was required to balance things out when you reached this stage of the game. A few minutes ago, I received word that one of my men infiltrated the Prosecutor's Office and had successfully carried out his mission.'

'Which was?' Apollo thought he already knew the answer, but he didn't want to believe it.

'Your friend, the prosecutor, won't be returning. My affiliate has him under control. He is unconscious, but his condition is stable. He is currently being transported to somewhere we can keep a close eye on him.' His mind going increasingly blank, Apollo stayed quiet. 'You will be defending in the retrial, but another will face off against you.'

'Who?' Apollo had only ever been up against Klavier and Payne, but the latter was too much to hope for.

'His name is Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth. You would do well to learn more about him. The last thing I need to inform you of is this. Should you succeed tomorrow, all three items will be returned safely. Should you fail, however… The original 'all or nothing' agreement still stands.' He didn't have to ask what that meant.

'Can I ask you one thing, de Killer?'

'Fire away.'

'Why is your client doing this? Asking you for the name is pointless, I know, but what do they get from all this?'

'Mr Justice, I make it my personal policy never to question the intent or motive of a client. I carry out their wishes, I receive my fee. That is all.'

De Killer cut off on his end. Apollo kept holding the switch, but only cold static was talking. He was alone. Totally, utterly alone. Klavier had kept him going through this trial, in more ways than one. They'd worked together on the case, and had come this far. He had been there to push Apollo in the right direction, to shut him up when he had to and to give him a confidence boost when he needed one. Now he had to finish the battle of his own accord.

Prosecutor Edgeworth, de Killer had said. He turned the name over in his mind, but nothing surfaced. He finally let go of the switch, and glanced around Klavier's office – maybe _he_ knew who this guy was. He spotted the familiar purple jacket, and went through the pockets. The only thing in there was a sharp thing in the inside pocket. He took it out. It was a badge - Klavier's prosecutor's badge. The red centre circle was outlined by sharp points extending outward. He closed his hand around it. It wouldn't help at all, but he put it in his pocket.

Maybe it could help on some 'what would Klavier do?' level, he thought. Not that he was dependent on him or anything, but it might help… He wasn't convinced, but he kept it. He mentally planned his next attack.

Apollo wasn't sure that the bellboy could tell him anything new, so he elected to skip the detention centre. He decided eventually on two places to visit. First to the Agency, then to the Gatewater Hotel. Then he would return to the office, and plan as far ahead as he could, hopefully with some idea of what he was up against. All that was left then was to win the trial, win the game and they'd all be home free.

The way de Killer had said the new prosecutor's name, Apollo couldn't help but feel that he was in for his toughest battle yet.


	8. Chapter 8

****We're coming to the end soon, guys :D By my count, it should be 11/12 chapters total but don't take my word for it just yet. I know where I'm going with the ending, but my updating will probably slow down a little from here. The ending is the one part of this story I absolutely HAVE to get right, plus college stuff is kind of important right now. Hooray for priorities :D Anyhoo, enough rambling, here's Chapter 8! Reviews/criticism welcome, and all that jazz!

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**Chapter 8**

Apollo approached the door to the Agency tentatively. He wasn't entirely sure that going to ask Phoenix for more advice was the best idea, but he had no other way of finding out about this Edgeworth guy. The idea of telling Phoenix the truth about the game resurfaced, but yet again he opted not to. The guy was probably still feeling messed up by Apollo's bombshell about the victim, the added worry of Trucy's kidnap wouldn't help matters. He went through the door, trying to be as loud as he could so he wouldn't have to start the conversation. He gave Charley the now customary poke, and stepped in.

Phoenix was sat watching TV, looking distinctly bored, like his mind was somewhere else entirely. Apollo noticed that he had replaced the photo where it was, only now it was turned around to face the wall. Still wasn't accepting it. Couldn't really blame him.

After muting the TV, Phoenix turned to face him. Apollo spoke first, Phoenix's cold stare intimidating him slightly.

'I need to ask you something.' That could have been more polite, but too late to change it now.

'Go ahead.' He turned back to the silent TV.

'Do you know any of the other prosecutors?'

'You should ask Klavier, not me.' Phoenix still wasn't interested.

Apollo paused before answering. Then he realised Phoenix probably didn't care what his excuse was, however obviously false. 'He's busy right now.'

Phoenix faced him again. 'Okay, try me.'

'Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth, I think. I'm up against him tomorrow.' Apollo had been expecting Phoenix to look away again and say he had no idea, so he was taken by surprise when Phoenix jumped out of his chair and started pacing around the room.

'Edgeworth's involved?' Phoenix was talking quietly to himself, and Apollo politely let him finish. Eventually the pacing stopped, and he sat back down again, inviting Apollo to join him.

'Tell me everything. You're still working on the same case, aren't you? Why's Edgeworth come up?'

Apollo decided on bending the truth a little. Phoenix was remarkably good at perceiving the lies of others, but when he was being this emotional Apollo could rely on some error in his judgment.

'Prosecutor Gavin's on a different case tomorrow, he told me that Payne pulled out of a trial and he had to cover for him. I'm up against this Edgeworth guy while he's away.' The lie came surprisingly easily, and he wasn't exactly proud of it.

'Is your client guilty?'

'Why do you ask?'

'Because you'll lose. I guarantee. Edgeworth is nigh unbeatable. If your client's guilty, that's fine, but if he isn't… Apollo, I'm sorry, but you don't stand a chance. No-one would.'

Outwardly, Apollo's expression barely changed. What was happening inside his head was a different story. Phoenix Wright, the Ace Attorney himself, saw the trial as unwinnable. Except that wasn't an option. But if Phoenix didn't think _anyone_ was capable of besting this guy…

'I have to win this trial.' He seemed to be making a habit of speaking without thinking.

'Belief in your client is one thing, trying to win against infallible logic is another.'

'It isn't that. I _do _believe in him, but that's not why I need to win.' The truth was getting closer to revealing itself, but at the last second Apollo backed out, and stayed quiet.

'Then what is it?'

'I… I have to win this! There's no other choice…' Phoenix saw that he was acting strangely, but saw his determination.

'Apollo. Let me explain something about Edgeworth.' Phoenix began to explain.

'A long time ago, in grade school, we were best friends. Then, let's just say his life got pretty messed up. He always wanted to be a defense attorney, but in the end he became a prosecutor. I met him in court for the first time in my second case. Back then, he was focused, always, on getting a guilty verdict, even if he had to forge evidence to get it. Nothing else mattered to him. But he changed after that. The last time I saw him was the case before my last. He wanted the truth. He'd finally realised that that was all that mattered in a courtroom. If your client is guilty, he will get a guilty verdict and that's all there is to it. If he's innocent, you might have a slight chance at it, if you're good enough.' Phoenix stood up, turned, and stared out of the window. In the reflection, Apollo could see that his eyes were closed. 'Show him the truth. Show him the truth, and you might just pull this off.'

'Mr Wright…' Apollo had no idea how to react. Then Phoenix turned back to him, and spoke again.

'Apollo, he knew the victim too. He'll probably take it better than I have, but that won't be enough. I've been following this trial, you know. Ever since you told me the victim's name. All the evidence, and testimony, and everything else you and Klavier have done. I know you're going for a retrial. Your client is guilty. That's the only possibility. I know you, Apollo. You care about the truth. So why? Why are you so determined to get him declared innocent?'

'Because there's no other option. I just… I just have to. I need to win this trial.' Apollo was getting frustrated at his cowardice in not telling the truth, but equally he knew it was for the best. He had never seen Phoenix angry, but this was the closest he'd gotten.

'Apollo, if you let her killer walk free just because you want to win…'

'It isn't that!' Apollo yelled, his frustration building. If you knew the truth, he thought. If you knew what was going on, you'd change your tune.

'Then what is it?'

Apollo saw that unless he told the truth, Phoenix would refuse to help him. He would either have to tell him what was going on and have him panicking about Trucy, or keep quiet and work alone. He chose the latter.

'I can't say. I'm sorry,' he answered, voice cracking slightly. 'I can't tell you.' Before Phoenix could ask him anything else, he turned and left, not looking back.

His conscience was beginning to overflow. There was too much secrecy involved, and now Klavier was gone, he would have to bear it alone. No-one left that he could turn to. All he could do now was win the trial. Everything else – patching things up with Phoenix, explaining everything to everyone involved – that could wait. He was already cycling toward the hotel before his mind registered where he was going.

Once he was inside the hotel, he seemed to switch to autopilot. He headed for the bellboy's room, and had an argument with his inner monologue.

Klavier's already been in here.

Yes, but maybe he missed something.

I'm sure he was pretty thorough.

What else do you have?

Apollo opened the door. The room was exactly as Klavier had described it while they were comparing notes. He could see where Klavier had tried to straighten it up after his investigation, and Apollo began his own. He tried to think of the places that Klavier wouldn't have looked. A voice in his head told him to stop searching in here, that finding something in the bellboy's room would be trial suicide, but he carried on.

He saw the filing cabinet, and the drawer marked 'Unknown.' Klavier had found that note from Atmey in there, but he probably hadn't checked any of the others. He opened all five drawers and, ever so gently, tipped their contents onto the bed. Something immediately stuck out, among the papers and hotel records.

A silver mask lay with the files. Apollo picked it up and held it over his face. He tried to convince himself that it was in the name of science, but there was an irresistible urge calling him to try it on. It was made of light metal, and had holes in the eyes and mouth. He placed it back on the bed, and drummed his fingers on it lightly. He was thinking about what the mask meant. Atmey's voice came to mind. Hadn't he been there to find DeMasque III?

'Mask.' Some more pieces of the puzzle fell into place. This was DeMasque III's mask. And it was here, because… he didn't know. Hadn't Atmey said that he never showed? But all that mattered was that it was in the bellboy's room. If he brought it up in the trial in the wrong place, Edgeworth would rip him apart. He slid it inside his waistcoat, and rearranged himself so it wasn't too obvious that he was concealing something. Apollo sat on an unoccupied part of the bed, and thought back over everything. There was one thing that could work in his favour, if he could figure it out in time.

The second bullet. If it had been fired after the murder, he could work something out. If it was before, he was in trouble. Any good prosecutor would argue it was irrelevant in those circumstances. All he could do now was logic his way through, and find it.

The bellboy had said that he picked up the gun on discovering the victim. Could he have fired the second shot? But why would he do that, Apollo thought in response, because he must have known it would cause more trouble. Unless it was an accident. Now he was getting somewhere. He followed his trail of logic.

So the bellboy picked it up, and fired it. Was an accidental shot plausible? Apollo himself had walked in on Romein LeTouse just before he died, and he wasn't exactly left in the best mental state afterward. If you were the tiniest bit too forceful while holding the gun, coupled with the shock of finding a body…

So he shot the gun immediately upon discovering it. The question, then, was 'where did it end up?' The victim had only been shot once, and no-one else was at the roof. So it must have been left somewhere on the roof. Apollo realised how unlikely all of this was, but he put that aside and carried on. He had to believe in the bellboy's innocence, even if Phoenix Wright himself didn't.

He headed to the roof, and checked the crime scene photo. The body of the victim had been found under the 'L' in the sign, and he went over to that spot. The bellboy had said that he picked it up and pointed it forward. So the bullet should be…

Apollo examined the sign. No sign of a gunshot. He must have gone wrong somewhere. Look at it from the other side, he thought. That's what Phoenix would say.

The words 'the other side' gave him an idea. She hadn't been shot from the front, but in the side of the head. He checked the photo again. The entry wound was her left temple, and she had fallen sideways to land on her right. If her killer had stood in front of her and shot her, and she had fallen that way, he would have had to be right-handed. He was careless enough to leave the gun there (or smart enough to try and frame someone else, thought Apollo), so if he didn't throw it off the roof, he must have… dropped it? It would have been left lying between the victim and the sign.

The bellboy had knelt down and picked up the gun, pointed it forward and shot it, or at least Apollo was assuming that. But if it was lying where he had just worked out, and if the bellboy had knelt next to her on the other side, he wouldn't have had the room to point it forward, toward the sign, but…

Apollo came back to his senses, and realised that he had knelt down by the sign. He turned around in a half circle. The bellboy would have been facing this way. He walked forward in a line, stopping when he got to an air vent that was next to the lift. Lying on the floor next to it, exactly as he had worked out, was a tiny lump of metal, deformed by its impact on the air vent. Apollo pocketed it, and left the hotel.

Klavier's earlier question came to mind as he headed back to the office to work things out. Who was the client? Before, he had wanted to leave that until after the game was over, but now, for some reason, the question wouldn't step aside. He unlocked the door to Klavier's office, and sat in his usual spot on the floor.

Every piece of evidence he had, he piled on the floor in front of him. Then he stood back up, and took down a poster from Klavier's wall, turned it over to show its plain white reverse, and placed it on the floor. He grabbed a marker pen from Klavier's desk, and sat back down.

He made three columns, headed 'Case', 'Game' and 'Others'. Under each heading, he listed names. Once he had finished, he read it over again. Bellboy, Pearl Fey, Ema Skye, Luke Atmey and DeMasque III were under 'Case.' Under 'Game' was written Klavier Gavin, Trucy Wright, Kristoph Gavin and de Killer. The only name under 'Others' was Phoenix Wright. Apollo had listed everyone involved, in both the trial and the game. He figured that the client had to be one of them. He started crossing off names.

He began with 'Case.' It couldn't have been the victim if the game was set up after she had been killed. The bellboy didn't seem right either, no-one would risk a murder charge just for a game like this. DeMasque III was a thief, he wouldn't involve anyone who didn't _have_ to be involved. Atmey worked alone. Ema just threw Snackoos at people she didn't like. With every name on that list crossed off, he made one final stroke through the entire list and moved on.

'Game' next. He hadn't written his own name, and now he wondered why he'd written Klavier's. He crossed it off. A sudden wave of guilt hit him when he read Kristoph's name again. He had spent his time worrying about Trucy, but she wasn't the only one in danger here. His own mentor's life was at stake, too. Kristoph had been seriously screwed over by Apollo's first trial, the lawyer-needing public turning against him after he had been (wrongly) accused of murder. His offices were becoming more and more lonely, even more so since Phoenix had recruited Apollo into the Anything Agency. All had been forgiven after the trial, though. Kristoph himself had said that he'd thrown out some pretty wild accusations in his time.

He crossed off both Kristoph's and Trucy's names; they were the ones with their lives on the line here. De Killer worked for clients, so his name was crossed too. 'Game' was finished now, and that left one, terrible, conclusion.

Phoenix Wright was the client.

Apollo, over the course of this, had been leaning forward, closer and closer to the paper until it was only a few inches in front of his face. Now, he leaned back, breathing deeply. An observer would have seen, over the next thirty seconds, a man obviously deep in thought swaying back and forth with a pen in his hand, desperately trying to think of something to write, putting pen to paper every five seconds and never writing anything. Eventually, he gave up.

The truth was, however wrong it may have seemed, he couldn't think of any reason why it _couldn't_ have been Phoenix. He wouldn't be in any danger himself, and he had a perfect motive. He knew Apollo and Klavier only cared about the truth. He knew the victim. He had a reason for wanting the truth of the case to come out. Maybe he just felt that they needed extra incentive.

But there was the problem. If he was the client, he had just asked an assassin to kidnap his own daughter, and potentially kill her. Either he knew Trucy was in no danger at all, which wasn't true, or he really, _really,_ wanted the truth, no matter the cost.

There was another problem. Why would he go this far? All he had to do was stick with Apollo and prod him toward the truth if he needed it. Klavier would probably go along with it. Or maybe that was the problem. No-one knew who had really gotten Phoenix disbarred seven years ago. Someone had handed to him, through Trucy, the forged diary page. He had used it in court, and Klavier had called him on it. Maybe this was revenge? Maybe he thought Klavier was the one responsible for his disbarment, and this was his way of getting even. If he had to endanger the life of his own daughter, and involve his apprentice, so be it…

Apollo shook his head. None of this made sense at all. Phoenix would never do this. His name was the only one without a line through it. In his head, he was trying to think of reasons why Phoenix would be the client, but his heart wasn't co-operating. He got up, and went to the window.

It was almost 11pm. A few days earlier, the bellboy would have been a few minutes away from discovering the body. What exactly _had_ happened that night? Apollo stared out of the window and observed the skyline. Bright specks of light came from all over the city as the night settled, like stars in the sky. The cars on the street below were giving a reassuring roar, keeping the oppressive silence at bay with their humming. Apollo's focus changed, and now he was staring at his own reflection. He looked gaunt and tired. Not tired like a man who didn't get enough sleep last night, but a man who was just tired of the world. He opened the window, and the cold air hit him.

He turned back to Klavier's desk, and rummaged around in the drawers. In one, he found a lighter. Klavier wasn't a smoker, but Apollo expected him to have one around, either for evidence or because he was a rockstar.

The paper was lying innocently on the floor. Apollo picked it up by a corner and held it at arm's length, the other hand holding the lighter. He held it out of the window, put the lighter to the opposite corner and lit it. The flame crept up, blackening the page until it was the same colour as the writing. The paper charred and fell apart. When the flames got to within two inches of his fingers, Apollo let it go. The last remnants of the paper drifted downward into the dark, the flame the only sign of its presence. A few seconds later, the fire went out. Apollo closed the window.

He sat back on Klavier's favourite chair, closed his eyes and thought. The client couldn't be Phoenix. He knew that much. So who was it? Who was it that really killed the victim? How good was Edgeworth? Did he have any chance whatsoever at winning the game?

The questions kept coming until he fell asleep. The darkness clouded his mind, and he thought about what would happen if he screwed up. Then he put the thought out of his head. Tomorrow is everything, he thought. It all goes down tomorrow, for good or for worse.


	9. Chapter 9

Almost there, guys. I won't give any hints, but I'm mid-chapter 11 right now. I was thinking about leaving it on some kind of a cliffhanger in a 'make-your-own-ending' kind of way, except that always irritates me when I see it done. I know how it's all going to happen now, all I have to do is write it :D I'm also going to do an 'authors notes' bit at the end, after the last chapter, which is going to be me reading this through again and making witty comments about how much I suck as a writer. Also, this chapter and the next are biggies i terms of word count. Enjoy! *insert obligatory 'review pls' here*

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**Chapter 9**

He was running. He didn't know what he was running from, and he didn't dare to look. He was running toward a door. A very simple, normal-sized wooden door. He knew salvation of some sort lay beyond it, and kept on going, out of breath. The sound of his footsteps echoed heavily around him.

He was in a tunnel. It was similar in size to a train tunnel, made of stone but decently lit. The urge to look behind him was growing. His legs were aching, and his heart was racing, and he kept on going.

Whatever was behind him was silent. Was there anything there at all? He turned his head halfway to the right, then turned back. No. Looking at it was a bad idea. But was there even an 'it'? He desperately wanted to look, to see what was scaring him so much, and the urge overcame him.

He turned his head. He saw the hotel bellboy, dressed entirely in black and twice his normal size, pointing a gun at him. The bellboy wasn't running, or moving at all. He just seemed to skate along the floor, motionless yet moving. And he was gaining ground. The bellboy would catch up soon, he thought. He ran even faster.

It was when he turned back around that he realised what was wrong. He was going faster, and he _was_ getting closer to the door, but every time he took a step, the door stretched slightly further away. But he was getting closer to it, he thought, and that was all that mattered. He pressed on.

He had no idea how much time passed, how he had managed to keep going for what could have been forever. But he was there. Just a few steps away from the door that would save him. It was moving away from him a millimetre at a time now, the handle just a tiny way out of his reach. His steps were becoming smaller, however hard he tried. He turned again, reaching for the handle.

The bellboy was inches away from him now. He turned back, and suddenly he felt the cold metal of the gun pressed against his head. He kept on going, but never got far enough.

'Game over.' The calm voice of the bellboy echoed in the tunnel, and the thunderous roar of the gun turned everything red, then black.

Apollo sat up with a start, rubbing his eyes. He breathed deeply. Just a dream. He hoped it wasn't a sign of things to come. He looked around the room cautiously.

Klavier's office looked the same. But something was different, he could feel it. Something was missing. He caught sight of the familiar purple jacket, and nodded. His conversation with de Killer came back to him. He checked his watch. 5am. About six hours sleep, more than he usually had. He got up, yawned, and sat back down on the floor next to the evidence pile, details of the case filtering back into his head one by one.

He had Atmey's note. That was the starting point. Atmey was the one that called the bellboy up there, but why? 'I will require your services' was what he'd written. He would have to get Atmey to testify today.

The second bullet might also come in handy, providing he could prove it was fired after the murder, by the bellboy, by accident, however unlikely it was that Edgeworth would accept that. He assumed Edgeworth, whoever he really was, would be able to figure all this out too.

He began to piece together events that night. Atmey was Chief Suspect right now. He killed the victim, motive unclear, then wrote the note to… frame the bellboy? He went up there at 11pm and found the body. That was enough to make Ema suspicious of him, and the other detectives followed suit. But motive was the question here. Atmey had been there to face off against this DeMasque guy, so why would he end up killing a sixteen-year old kid? Apollo spotted the mask out the corner of his eye. Atmey had said DeMasque never showed, but that mask proved otherwise. Of course, a good prosecutor would argue if the mask even belonged to DeMasque. But he had a way out of that – Atmey would either say that it was, or he would say that it wasn't and Apollo would perceive his lie.

So DeMasque III had showed up that night. Why did Atmey want to hide it? He had nothing to lose by saying that he _had_ showed up… unless he _did _have a reason for keeping it back. Apollo's train of thought stopped there, a sudden mental block forming in his head. He was good at figuring out alternate theories on the fly. Edgeworth had better be ready for him.

At ten minutes to nine, Apollo was in the defendant's lobby. This entire case was the most distanced he had ever been from a client. He'd spoken to the guy once. This was bad form, to say the least, but that didn't matter now. All he could do was believe in him, and believe in himself, and win.

His inner monologue was interrupted by the door opening. In stepped a man, and Apollo knew immediately who he was up against.

'Edgeworth.' He didn't have to ask, his demeanour said it all. Proud, uptight prosecutor.

'Mr Justice.' Edgeworth made to hold his hand out, but decided against it. 'I'll say now, there's no way you can win this trial.' He spoke clearly and decisively, confidence unwavering. Apollo did his best not to falter.

'And why are you so sure?'

'Why we're here for a retrial on grounds of lacking evidence is beyond me. All the necessary evidence was shown in the first trial.' Apollo spotted an opening, and kept quiet. 'Of course, the prosecution has completed its own investigation, and found equally incriminating evidence.' Dammit. He thought Edgeworth didn't have anything new, but he was expecting too much.

'Who's testifying?' He knew Edgeworth wasn't going to answer, but he tried anyway.

'Why would I tell you?'

Apollo cut him off. 'Mr Wright says you knew the victim.'

Edgeworth looked surprised for a moment. '…Yes, I did. It's tragic.' He folded his arms and looked to the side, a pained expression occupying his face for a split second. 'I intend to find her killer guilty today. Your client, Justice, is her killer. Everything points to it.' Edgeworth turned to leave, and Apollo shouted after him.

'Edgeworth! What if you're wrong?'

'…I only want the truth. The truth is, _he _killed her. You don't have a chance, Justice.' Edgeworth left. Apollo stared at the door, slowly closing. He put his hands in his pockets, and quickly brought one back out again. He'd almost pricked his finger on something sharp, and took it out. Klavier's badge. He stared at it, closed his hand around it and entered the courtroom.

'Court is now in session for the trial of… I don't like this. The trial of the bellboy of the Gatewater Hotel.' The judge banged his gavel.

'The defense is ready, Your Honor.' Apollo was as forceful as he could be. In the last trial, he'd held back. Nothing was stopping him now.

'The prosecution has been ready for a while, Your Honor.' Edgeworth tapped the side of his head. The judge nodded.

'Very well. Then let us begin. But first, Prosecutor Edgeworth… it's been a while since the Prosecutor's Office has seen you, hasn't it?'

'Indeed. I have been abroad for the last few years, studying foreign legal systems in Europe.'

'So why do you return now?'

'Let's just say I'm returning a favour to a friend. May I begin?' Edgeworth wasn't being very forthcoming, but that didn't matter right now.

'The court has already heard a summary of the events of this case. I would like to forgo the opening statement and avoid us repeating ourselves. Instead, we will move straight on to my first witness. Detective Gumshoe! Once again, we need your testimony.' Apollo wasn't sure why Edgeworth was acting like he'd been in the last trial. Then again, the judge hadn't noticed the lack of a certain blingy prosecutor. Maybe he didn't want to waste time with an explanation for Klavier's absence.

Gumshoe, still in that same scruffy trenchcoat, stumbled his way to the stand. He was looking significantly less emotional than last time, and Apollo was glad.

'Witness, please state your name and occupation.' Edgeworth asked straightforwardly. This guy doesn't have any hint of a sense of humour, does he, thought Apollo. Klavier's badge poked him in the finger again, and he took his hand out of his pocket.

'Sure thing, Prosecutor Gavin! … Whoa!' Gumshoe leaned over the stand, staring at Edgeworth. 'It's YOU, pal!'

'Indeed it is. Now, could you please-'

'Prosecutor Edgeworth! It's been too long!' Gumshoe was smiling, a grin almost too big for his face.

'Detective!' Edgeworth raised his voice. Apollo guessed he often had trouble with the good detective. 'Name and occupation, please!'

'Oh, right. Name's Dick Gumshoe, I'm in charge of the investigation.' Gumshoe proclaimed this proudly, then spoke under his breath. 'What happened to not repeating ourselves?'

Edgeworth ignored the last remark. 'Witness, please summarise the prosecution's new findings.'

'You can count on me, pal!'

'At 11pm on the 12th April, on the roof of the Gatewater Hotel, Ms Pearl Fey was found dead. The hotel bellboy was the one who found her, and we arrested him. Since the last trial, we've found more evidence, pal. The second bullet that the defense was talking about was found at the scene. That was the bellboy's first shot, and he missed. His second shot hit its target. The defendant's guilty, without a doubt.'

Apollo spoke before the judge. 'And just what about that bullet is so incriminating?' Gumshoe went to answer, but Edgeworth beat him.

'Mr Justice, weren't you the one who said the second bullet was important? Why exactly are you contradicting your own case?'

'Aah…' Apollo pinged his hair back. Now he was here, it seemed like a weak line of attack.

'Your cross-examination, please, Mr Justice.' The judge hammered the gavel.

'Detective, how do you know which order the bullets were fired? That seems like something you couldn't possibly prove.'

'Think about it the other way, pal. Why would he kill the victim, THEN fire another shot?'

'Think about it the other _other _way, Detective. What if the bellboy wasn't the killer at all? What then?' Edgeworth jumped in.

'Mr Justice, may I remind you this is a retrial? We are clearly covering old ground here, Your Honor. I object to this line of questioning, unless the defense can produce sufficient evidence.'

The judge nodded. 'Objection sustained. Mr Justice, do you have evidence to suggest someone else fired the murder weapon?'

'I-I don't think so.' At this point, looking weakened was better than doing something wrong. 'But I do have-'

'Well then, this entire trial is a waste of Your Honor's time. I see no need to prolong this trial.'

The judge nodded again. 'The court agrees with the prosecution. I hereby find-'

'Objection!' Apollo slammed his hands on the bench. 'Your Honor, the defense isn't done yet!'

'Mr Justice?'

'The defense would like to call a witness. A witness who can help us prove that the bellboy is innocent!' He pointed across the room, at Edgeworth.

'Who, Justice?'

'Ace Detective Luke Atmey, of course!' Apollo knew where he was going with this. He just had to hope that Edgeworth hadn't figured it out.

'The court has already heard his testimony. What could be gained from hearing it agai-'

'The defense's investigation uncovered new evidence, Prosecutor Edgeworth. That, combined with Mr Atmey's testimony, will paint this case in a whole new light!'

'N-new evidence?' Edgeworth leaned forward onto the bench.

'Very well. Is Luke Atmey ready to testify once more, Prosecutor?'

'He is waiting in the prosecutor's lobby, Your Honor.' Edgeworth had recovered far too quickly. He knew more than he was letting on, Apollo thought.

'Then would Mr Luke Atmey take the stand!'

A few minutes later, the Ace Detective himself was on the stand. He was still cleaning that monocle of his.

'Witness!' Apollo yelled. 'We need you to testify again!'

'I can respect a persistent man. However! I cannot respect a man who constantly presumes he can drag me away from my work!' Atmey wasn't happy, was the general gist of things.

'Isn't defeating DeMasque III your biggest priority?'

'Indeed, Mr Attorney!' Apollo paused a little, wondering why he had been promoted back up to Mr Attorney. Now was his chance to truly link Atmey to the case.

'I wonder… if that's true, why did you pass up the last chance you had?'

'Mr Attorney, I'm afraid the meaning of that remark was lost upon me.'

'Me too,' added the judge.

Atmey hadn't even testified yet, and Apollo was already trying to prove his guilt. This whole thing was flying in the face of normal court procedure.

'Mr Atmey! After the previous guilty verdict, this was found in the hotel.' Apollo held up the mask for the court, and it caught the light. 'You clearly testified earlier that DeMasque III never showed up. So why was his mask found in the hotel?'

'Objection!' Atmey didn't have time to react before Edgeworth's objection. 'And just how do you know that mask belongs to DeMasque III?' Apollo had been expecting this.

'Mr Atmey, you recognise the mask of your nemesis, right?'

'Hmm!' Atmey held out his magnifying glass, and stared at the mask. 'It is, without a doubt, his.'

Edgeworth stayed silent. Apollo guessed that he had something else up his sleeve.

'Mr Atmey! Testify about the events of that night, truthfully this time!' the judge commanded.

'It is true, DeMasque III dancingly descended upon the hotel that night. It is also true that I encountered him, and battled with him. This was at 9pm, prior to the murder. I bravely fought the thief in the bellboy's room – that is where the Screwdriver of Fate was kept, after all – and he escaped me. Two hours afterward, the victim was found dead on the roof. I saw the bellboy go to the roof, intent on killing the victim. The fact that DeMasque III appeared changes nothing.'

'If it changes nothing, why didn't you mention it before?'

'Mr Attorney, when one is dealing with the most dastardly thief the world has ever seen, one keeps his affairs private.'

'B-but still! You could have had something to do with the crime!' Apollo's arguments were getting weaker. He steeled himself. Edgeworth laughed humourlessly.

'Mr Justice, have you ever heard of 'law school'? Do you not see the problem? Evidence is what matters in a courtroom. You need something more than 'you could have had something to do with the crime' to convince a court.'

'I accept your challenge, Prosecutor.' Apollo folded his arms. 'The defense would like to present evidence that links Mr Atmey to the crime!'

'Interesting! Where is this evidence, Mr Justice?' Apollo had it in his hand before the judge finished speaking.

'Take that!' he yelled. 'This note, Mr Atmey. It was found in the bellboy's room, telling him to go to the roof at 11pm.'

'And, pray tell, how does that link me with the crime?'

'Mr Atmey, this handwriting analysis proves that you wrote it.'

'Urk!' He recoiled, then polished his monocle. 'B-but I was there for _two_ nights! I remember writing that the day _before_ the murder!' He was clutching at straws now, and Apollo saw his chance.

'Mr Atmey, can I draw your attention to the next part of the note? 'Get to the roof at 11pm… after the party'! The party held the night of the murder! You can't pull a trick like that, Atmey!'

Atmey stayed silent. Edgeworth spoke, and Apollo was ready for him.

'I believe no evidence was presented in the last trial that linked the witness and the crime. This sudden discovery is quite… convenient, isn't it, Justice?' Edgeworth was smiling.

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'That I doubt the credibility of this evidence, that's all.' Apollo saw the implication, and clenched his fists.

'I would never-!'

'Now, now, Justice, I'm not accusing _you_ of anything.' Edgeworth wagged his finger disapprovingly. Apollo just barely resisted the urge to throw sharp objects at him. 'I would like to draw the court's attention to the locations of the other items found in the hotel. The mask and the Magatama, to be more specific.'

'They were found…' the judge answered, shuffling his papers. 'The mask was found in the bellboy's room, and the Magatama was found in the hotel kitchen.'

'Precisely, Your Honor. The defendant's room and the kitchen. What does that suggest to you?'

The judge thought for a moment. '…Mr Justice! What does that suggest to you?' In other words, he didn't have a clue, thought Apollo.

'It suggests that… actually, I don't know either.' He tried his best to smile, and played with his hair.

'Must I be the one to point out everything to you? Who, exactly, would place those items in those locations? The bellboy is the only possibility! Ergo, he is the killer!' The crowd erupted in a storm of chattering, and it took the judge a full minute to calm them down.

During that minute, Apollo had an internal pep talk to himself. He was getting flustered here. Edgeworth was one-upping him at every turn, and he had barely anything to counter his logic with. But falling apart here wasn't an option. Even if he had no idea what was coming or how he could fight against it, he had to go on as strongly as he could. That was the only way he could win. The pieces were falling into place, one by one. He just needed more time. He took a deep breath as the judge called for order.

'Order! Order! Does the defense have anything to say in response? I must say, I am about ready to call a verdict if you don't.'

Apollo didn't even have time to think before he had responded. 'Your Honor, I will present evidence to counter the prosecution's claim!' He had spoken so confidently, even Edgeworth was surprised.

'Then go ahead, Mr Justice.'

Apollo stared around the courtroom intensely. There was nothing in his evidence. He knew that. There had to be _something_… His eye settled on Atmey, smiling in that annoyingly cocky way, and once again Apollo focused on his hands. There was his answer. It was more than an answer – it would turn everything on its head, if he played it right.

'Your Honor! Take a look at the witness! What do you see?' Atmey looked startled, and straightened up a little as the entire court stared at him.

'I see, uh, an… Ace Detective?'

'I see more than that, Your Honor. I see an Ace Detective… wearing gloves.' He folded his arms. Edgeworth wasn't amused.

'Justice, what-'

'Take another look at the evidence, Edgeworth! You'll see what I mean. Look at the Magatama. It has the victim's blood on it, as well as something else.'

'Of course. It has gloveprints…' Edgeworth's penny dropped. 'You-you can't seriously mean…'

'While you're there, have a closer look at the murder weapon! Anything similar there?' Edgeworth gave a small start. That was it. All he had to do now was let Edgeworth realise the truth, then he'd be home free.

'I'm afraid to say, the defense's argument is fatally flawed.' Edgeworth slammed his hand on the bench. 'In the most basic of aspects, no less. Can you even prove the witness was wearing his gloves that night? Also, is there any evidence that the same person left these prints? They could well have been left by two entirely different people!'

Apollo stayed quiet. He'd been naïve to think that that alone would do the trick.

'If the defense cannot disprove me, I believe we are, once again, in a position to end this retrial.'

He couldn't say anything. He had to indict Atmey, but there was nothing he could use. There wasn't any evidence on his side. The idea came to him then, and he was unsure. It could all go completely wrong and leave him with even less. But then again, he thought, this is the time for risky measures. It's that, or give up right now.

'If the defense's silence is indicative of its current position, I believe I can deliver my verdict at this moment. This court finds the defenda-'

'Objection!' Apollo slammed his hands on the bench. 'Prosecutor Edgeworth!' He pointed across the courtroom. 'There is another witness we have yet to hear from! The defense believes that a verdict cannot be decided until we have heard every last testimony!'

'And who is this mystery witness, Justice?'

'The hotel bellboy himself. The defense calls the defendant to the stand!'

'W-what?' Getting Edgeworth to stammer seemed to be working in his favour, he thought. 'I object to calling the bellboy, Your Honor!'

The judge shook his head. 'Overruled. The defense has a point. Labelling a man as guilty without letting him speak is impermissible.' Things were looking up, thought Apollo. Maybe he had more of a chance than he thought.

'…Very well, Your Honor. The prosecution has prepared testimony.' _That_ he didn't expect. Edgeworth was a good actor, it seemed; nothing ever really took him by surprise, everything was clear. Atmey stepped down, and the judge called the defendant to testify.

The bellboy walked to the stand, holding up his hand with his fingers splayed just like he had at the Detention Centre. Apollo mentally ran over everything the bellboy had said to him when he had visited. That was the only new ammunition he had against Edgeworth.

'Witness…' Edgeworth seemed reluctant. 'Witness, please state your name and occupation for the record.'

'I am the bellboy of the Gatewater Hotel, in business for twenty years now, sir.'

'And your name?' Edgeworth asked, looking a little tense. His fingers were twitching, ready to object.

'I believe my description just now suffices.'

'No it doesn't, defendant. State your name.'

'Prosecutor, the trial will continue. Your skill in getting witnesses to state their names hasn't improved over time, it seems.' An image suddenly came to mind of the judge winking and pointing a finger-gun. Apollo smirked, and quickly stopped. 'Defendant, please give us your testimony.'

'Very good, sir.'

'On the night of the murder, I made a trip up to the roof at 11pm on the dot, sirs. That was when I saw the unfortunate victim lying dead. I believe I dropped my tray in shock – I had just completed some room service, you see – and immediately went over. She was, of course, dead. Her jewel was, if I recall… lying by her side. I picked up the gun, and that's all I can remember.'

'…A very interesting testimony. Mr Justice, do you want to cross-examine? I see nothing questionable here.' Then I'd better pull something questionable out of him, he thought.

'Your Honor, the defense will cross-examine.'

Edgeworth made an almost inaudible 'hmph' sound. Apollo ignored it.

'Mr… uh, well, d-defendant! Why did you go up to the roof at all? There was no-one up there who wanted room service.' Apollo was hoping to let the bellboy do the explaining. He would mention the note, and he could use that to indict Atmey.

'I'm afraid I don't recall that particular detail, sir. I did go to the roof, but I am clueless as to why.' Apollo panicked a little. This had happened before, the bellboy just needed a little prodding in the right direction.

'No other details you could give us at all?'

'None, sir. Everything I know was included in my testimony.'

Apollo glanced across to Edgeworth. He was smiling, dangerously. Apollo wasn't convinced his forging days were over. He had told the bellboy not to talk about the note on purpose. Of course, he had no proof, and throwing accusations wildly would be suicide. He pressed on, inwardly promising to pay Edgeworth back. There was a contradiction in plain sight, and he planned to expose it.

'Defendant, you mentioned the victim's Magatama in your testimony.'

'Indeed, sir. I remember it well. It glowed beautifully, lying next to the victim.' The bellboy looked off into the distance.

'There's just one problem.' Apollo was smiling. He had control now. There was no stopping him. Time to throw caution to the wind.

'Your Honor, recall where the Magatama was found – in the kitchen of the Gatewater Hotel! The defendant _couldn't _have seen it at the scene!'

The courtroom was still. Apollo had been expecting them to react, or talk, or for Edgeworth to shout at him but there was nothing. Edgeworth looked at him with what Apollo could only describe as the biggest 'are you a complete idiot' face he had ever seen.

'Justice. The bellboy wasn't arrested immediately, was he? He was sent to the lobby by Ms Skye to speak to the guests! He could have hidden it then!'

'…oh.' He needed to break this habit of speaking before thinking, and he needed to break it _now._

'Mr Justice? Is it worthwhile to continue this cross-examination? I was ready to deliver a verdict at least an hour ago.' The judge was getting impatient. If he was going to come up with something case-breaking, it was now or never.

'Your Honor, I will continue. There is one more piece of evidence we have not yet considered.' That wasn't entirely true, but he had regained the judge's attention with his words.

'You say you can't remember why you went to the roof that night, defendant? I say you can. In fact, I can prove it.'

The bellboy looked happier than Apollo could possibly have imagined at that. 'Oh, sir! Truly, this is just like old time-'

Apollo cut his reminiscing short. 'Your Honor. The bellboy went to the roof because of this!' On 'this', he held up a familiar piece of paper.

'That note? Again?' Edgeworth asked. 'Hasn't the prosecution already proven its irrelevance?'

'_You_ doubted its credibility, but I'm asking the defendant here. Bellboy, do you remember this?'

'Why yes, sir. I found that note in the fourth floor hallway during room service. I followed its instructions, and went to the roof at 11pm precisely.'

'W-WHAT?' Edgeworth didn't seem the kind who got flustered easily, but he was seething now. 'Defendant, I expressly told you not to-' He remembered where he was, and stopped.

'Mr Bellboy!' the judge yelled out. Either he hadn't heard Edgeworth or was ignoring him. 'Tell us about this note!'

'I found it while completing room service on the fourth floor, Your Honor, around 9:30pm. I put it in my room, and followed its instructions. That is all.'

'Your Honor, remember the handwriting analysis results! Luke Atmey wrote that note!' Apollo's hands were shaking now, but he had to deal the final blow. 'He must have had a reason for sending the bellboy up there!' An idea was forming, but Edgeworth stepped in before he could give it.

'The defense is stalling for time, Your Honor. There is no evidence to connect Mr Atmey to the crime. Why Justice here seems to want to link him to the murder I cannot imagine.'

'He wrote a note to the bellboy to go to the roof! The roof where the dead body of the victim just so happened to be!' He didn't mean for that to come out so harshly, but carried on. 'That can't be a coincidence! He knew she'd been killed!'

'Really?' Edgeworth tapped his head again, and Apollo straightened up a little. He was nowhere near to winning, it seemed. 'Then prove it. Prove that Mr Atmey knew of the murder before 11pm, and wrote that note!'

He knew there was nothing. There were papers lying around, on and under the bench, and he looked through them desperately. If he couldn't do anything now, the trial was over. He couldn't let that happen. Kristoph had taught him to know when a fight was lost, but losing wasn't an option now. Not after all this. For the first time in the game, he thought properly of what was at stake. If he won, it was okay. If he lost… his sister, his mentor and his new best friend were history. Harsh reality hit him suddenly and he physically shook, having to lean heavily on the bench to stay upright.

'Mr Justice? Are you alright?' The judge sounded concerned. All that came from the prosecution was silence.

'I'm fine!' With the force of his words, he convinced himself momentarily, and steadied. 'Your Honor! I call for a recess! The defense will assess its position and counter the prosecution's claims!' He had no idea if he could even do that, but time was of the essence here. If he had more time, he could work _some_thing out.

The judge thought for a few seconds, then took gavel in hand. 'The defense's request is granted. Court is adjourned for a ten-minute recess!'

Edgeworth eyed him suspiciously, then quietly walked out of the courtroom. Apollo breathed a sigh of temporary relief, turned and shakily stepped into the defendant's lobby. This was most likely the final recess the judge was willing to allow, if he was ready to call a verdict already. If Klavier were here, the trial would be won already. He sat down on the sofa, and took out Klavier's badge. Holding it tightly in one hand, he thought harder than he ever had before. There had to be something he could use. Evidence, testimony, something that could prove to Edgeworth that the prosecution had it all wrong. All he had to do was find the truth. Find the truth, and prove it to Edgeworth. Then he had it won. But he was afraid, afraid of what would happen if it all went downhill. The game was almost over either way, but Apollo felt like it had only just begun.


	10. Chapter 10

We're into double digits! Yay! Next chapter's done, all that's left for me to do is to write the epilogue (which, at time of writing this, I am about to do) and authors notes. I know there's things I'll have to explain (this is my first proper story, I understood before I started that it wouldn't be perfect), and there's a few recommendations that I have for future-me. I can't speak for the epilogue just yet, but this is the longest chapter in terms of word count. Be warned, all ye who enter here. Please enjoy Chapter 10, reviews/criticisms encouraged and appreciated!

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**Chapter 10**

Apollo had brought most of his evidence files with him. Now, he dropped them onto the sofa, sat on the floor and thought. He listed the suspects in his head. The bellboy and Atmey were the only names to come to mind at first, but DeMasque III was soon added to the list. He had showed up after all, and Atmey had apparently fought with him in the bellboy's room at 9pm. Did that change things?

He was trying to block out the sound of hearing his inner voice saying 'no' when the door to the lobby opened. He stood up before the opener came through, and found himself face-to-face with Phoenix Wright. De Killer's client. He had to be, however weird it seemed.

'Mr Wright, why…' The rest of his sentence faltered and died in his throat.

'Why am I here? To tell you something.' Even when Phoenix was being serious, you could see a soft smile on his face. Not now. 'Apollo, _give this up_. The bellboy of the hotel killed Pearl Fey. I can see it, Edgeworth can see it, even the judge can. I don't want to say this, but no-one's on your side in there. You can't win against the truth.' None of this made sense now, all things considered. Why would he set up the game, then persuade Apollo to lose it? 'If you clear her killer, I'm sorry, but I can't forgive you.'

'And what about Trucy? Where's she?' The question sounded exactly as harsh as he had wanted it to sound.

Phoenix wasn't expecting it. 'She's still away. What's she got to do with this?'

Apollo stayed silent, and looked away pointedly. He turned around, sat back down and looked through his papers. He wasn't even going to grace that with an answer. Thirty seconds later, he heard the door open and close again.

He had to indict either Atmey or DeMasque III. That was the only course of action. He worked out a rough plan of action, just as the bailiff called him back into the courtroom.

The judge silenced the court with his gavel.

'Court will reconvene. Mr Justice, do you intend to present evidence?'

'No, Your Honor. Instead, the defense would like to open a new possibility.' This was his weaker argument, but the one that the judge hopefully wouldn't dismiss immediately.

'I object, Your Honor. We are here to discuss proof, not possibility.' Edgeworth brought his hand down on the bench to accentuate the word 'proof.'

'…Mr Justice, what is this 'possibility'? I would sustain the prosecution's objection if I wasn't so curious.'

'Another suspect, Your Honor. DeMasque III could well have been the killer!' Apollo yelled. He came straight out with it, too much padding here could cost him.

'DeMasque III?' the judge repeated, confused.

'Your Honor, Ms Fey could have heard or seen the thief at work that night! If she caught him in the act, he could have killed her to eliminate a witness to his crime!'

'Justice, care to think that one through again? DeMasque III wanted to steal the Magic Screwdriver, or something ridiculous like that. The screwdriver in question was later found in the hotel, exactly where it should have been, and was kept as evidence. Why, then, would he kill her but leave without what he came for?' Edgeworth shook his head, and shrugged in a 'why do I even bother' kind of way. 'Also, he fought with Luke Atmey that night. It was Ms Pearl Fey that was killed, not Mr Atmey! Furthermore, the only evidence we have of his presence is his mask. There is nothing else to suggest that his appearance that night was relevant to the crime!' Edgeworth spoke too eloquently, that speech was pre-planned, Apollo thought. He must have seen that argument coming from a mile away. He didn't think he had ever been so thoroughly shut down.

'Mr Justice, I agree with the prosecution. Now, I will call a verdict, if there are no further interruptions.'

'Wait, Your Honor!'

'Mr Justice, I tire of these constant objections. Know when a trial is lost. You could do serious damage to your career otherwise.'

'Your Honor, there's one more thing I need to do. The defense requests that the bellboy testify again! About the victim's Magatama, to be precise!'

'Justice, I respect your passion, but really? This trial is farcical.' Apollo glared at Edgeworth.

'… And yet, Prosecutor, I want to hear him out. He sounds more sure of himself this time.' Apollo would willingly have climbed up to the judge's chair and hugged him. Instead, he said 'Thank you, Your Honor.'

The bellboy took the stand again, still flashing that professional smile.

'Defendant,' Apollo began. 'Tell us about the scene as you discovered it. Exactly as you discovered it. Including the Magatama.'

'Very well, sir.'

'At 11pm, I discovered the late Ms Fey. She was lying on her right side, if I remember correctly, with her back to the hotel sign. She had been shot in the head, and the pistol lay by her side. Naturally, I wanted to examine it. So I went over, curiosity burning, and knelt by her, facing away from the sign also. I picked up the gun, and the next thing I can remember is Detective Skye rushing up to me and yelling instructions to tell everyone in the hotel not to panic. The… Magatama, is it called? I saw the victim wearing it that night, I must have gotten confused. There was a party that night, you see, sir, and my memory is a little… hazy.'

The bellboy blushed furiously as he gave that last statement. Someone had probably let the party atmosphere go to his head.

'This all sounds relatively familiar. Mr Justice, this is your last chance. I will permit no more testimony or 'new evidence' after this cross-examination. If you fail to prove your client's innocence now, I will deliver my verdict, even if I have to hold you in contempt of court.'

Apollo nodded. 'Understood, Your Honor.'

'You know, disturbing the scene of a crime is generally frowned upon.' Apollo played with his hair as he spoke. 'Why exactly did you pick up the gun?'

'I do so enjoy detective stories, you know.' A wave of déjà-vu hit him. The bellboy had said the exact same thing in the Detention Centre.

'And you say you saw the victim? When was this? Was it at this party you mention?'

'Justice, you are leading the witness. You are breaking the most basic rule of testimony, please try to remember where you are.' Edgeworth cut in before the bellboy could answer.

'Bellboy! Please, answer the question! Where did you see the victim?' Apollo yelled.

'I don't believe she was at the hotel party, sir. She was sixteen, after all. I most likely took care of her room service.'

'So you took her room service?' the judge asked. 'And you saw her Magatama while she was wearing it, and got confused in your testimony. That is remarkably simple.' The judge picked up his gavel.

Edgeworth was smiling. That was never a good sign, Apollo thought. 'His Honor has just summarised this entire case in four words, Justice. It doesn't matter where the defendant saw the victim, what matters is that it is he who killed her!'

'Defendant!' Apollo was full-on panicking. The judge was seconds away from a verdict. There had to be something… 'Defendant, please tell us… about the party! I believe the events of the party are of critical importance!' Everyone in the court could tell that he was lying through his teeth. Before anyone else could question his persistence, the bellboy answered him.

'As I previously stated, sir, I cannot remember every detail of the party. There was a lot of… yes, well, er… nothing of importance happened, really. I served a few drinks, entertained a few people.'

A familiar swirling sensation overcame Apollo, and he asked the bellboy to restate what he'd just said as he focused, touching his bracelet gently.

'I cannot remember every detail of the party.'

'There was a lot of…yes, well, er… nothing of importance happened, really.'

'I served a few drinks, entertained a few people.'

Apollo had to watch the testimony three times. The witness' hands were always the first place he looked, then their faces. There was no sign of a nervous habit there. He was running out of ideas fast. He had been looking at the bellboy's splayed fingers but now he concentrated his gaze on his wrist. As soon as he said 'nothing of importance happened', Apollo jumped in.

'Gotcha!' He had never been more glad to shout that as loud as he could. 'You say nothing important happened? I wouldn't be so sure.'

'What are you saying, sir?'

'As soon as you said those words, your pulse quickened! You may not know this, but I'm trained to see details like that. Defendant, something did happen that night! And you're going to tell us what!' Apollo really didn't want to know what it was that made the bellboy's pulse quicken on remembrance of the night of the party. A thought came to mind, and he shook his head to clear it out.

The bellboy paused for a few moments. 'If you insist, good sir.' Apollo pulled himself out of his trance, and blinked his way back into focus.

'I do not remember a great deal of the party, as I have already stated numerous times. I don't do very well in party atmospheres, though I try to remain professional. That was when I met… her, sir!'

'Who?'

'She was simply stunning, sir! Her fair hair, her delicate stature, her professional demeanour! Her notebook never left her hands the entire night! If I had only learned her name…!'

'What.' This was not the cry of a man who simply did not understand; this was the flat response of a man who had just heard something so mind-blowingly weird that he had no idea how to react.

'We spoke, at length, that night. The rest of it is blurry, sir. The people, the music, the fireworks, the dancing… oh, the dancing!'

'Defendant, stop, please.' Apollo was speaking uncharacteristically quietly. He didn't think he could take any more. This had to be it. He took a deep breath, prepared for Edgeworth's inevitable shutdown, when it happened. His head snapped up, and his eyes were wide.

For the next minute, he saw and heard nothing from the courtroom. The judge asked several times what was wrong, but no-one heard over the bellboy's reminiscence. He was thinking of previous testimony. The more he thought, the more his metaphorical penny dropped.

Ema Skye. She had gone to the roof because she heard a shot. She had mentioned the party before, including… yes, that worked.

Atmey. He was there to face off against DeMasque III, whom he had supposedly fought in the bellboy's room. He was the main suspect, but didn't have a motive. He had written the note. The victim had been shot on the roof, and the mask was found in the bellboy's room. The Magatama was found in the kitchen. This seemed unorganised as far as an argument went, but it was making sense now.

The bellboy. He was suspected because he had fired the second shot, but who fired the first? He had no motive, like Atmey, but he couldn't have done it. Everything hinged on that.

Apollo looked once more over his evidence. Everything he saw, he pieced together. He closed his eyes as his view of the case became clearer. He slammed on the bench before he knew what he was doing.

'Bellboy! What you said just now – that was of vital importance! Your Honor, hear me out! Add that to the testimony, that's all I need to end this!' He was giving away more than he should have, but Edgeworth still seemed unfazed.

'Mr Justice, I don't think his rambling about his favourite coffee is going to-'

'Not that! What he said about the party!'

'What was it?' asked the bellboy. Apollo didn't even care that he had forgotten.

'You said 'The people, the music, the fireworks, the dancing.''

'And what is so important, Mr Justice? Remember, you will need concrete evidence to support your claims,' the judge advised sagely.

'I'll tell you what's so important!' Apollo pointed fiercely across the courtroom. 'The defense wishes to indict Luke Atmey of the murder of Ms Pearl Fey!'

'…Because the bellboy testified about dancing? Justice, that is weak.' Edgeworth shook his head. 'Where do I even begin picking apart your logic?'

'You don't, Edgeworth. Because it's flawless.' Even Edgeworth was shocked by his sudden confidence.

The judge banged the gavel. 'One more chance, Mr Justice. Show us what you've got!'

Apollo planned his attack. He had an idea where he was going with this, but he had to take it slowly. If he stalled for time just long enough, he could have things worked out.

'This is the scenario the defense proposes. At 9pm that night, the Ace Detective and his nemesis DeMasque III were locked in battle. The thief had come to steal the Screwdriver of Fate. Why do you think he wanted that, Prosecutor?'

Edgeworth wasn't expecting a question. 'Justice, what relevance-'

'Just answer me.'

'…I have no idea. I am only interested in points related to the case.'

Apollo continued with the answer he wanted. 'So you don't know. Neither do I. Therein lies our answer. If there is a man living who willingly goes out of his way to steal a screwdriver, I think we can call his mental state into question. In fact, and apologies for my informality here, but I think we can call him an idiot. Just the sort of idiot, in fact, who would get the location of his intended 'victim' wrong! That night, he went to the roof instead!' He expected Edgeworth to interrupt him, but nothing came from the prosecution. 'Mr Atmey, expecting to see his arch-rival descend upon the bellboy's room, eventually gave up and wandered the hotel. He went to the roof. Maybe he was just curious, maybe he was told by someone that a masked man had just gone there. Either way, at 9pm, the two met. Look at the autopsy report again. This is where the time window of the victim's death begins, Your Honor.' Apollo glanced around the courtroom, only just becoming aware of their stares. He carried on.

'At this point, the party the bellboy speaks of was in full swing. Ms Fey, being sixteen, wasn't at the party. Detective Skye was there, as was the bellboy. The two on the roof began fighting, and she heard the commotion.'

'A gunshot, perhaps?' Edgeworth asked.

'No, Prosecutor. She heard them fighting, that was all. Here is where the bellboy's most recent testimony comes into play. Not the dancing, or the music, but the fireworks. Fireworks, Your Honor.' Apollo crossed his arms. 'That is where everything changes.'

'How so, Mr Justice?'

'Ever seen fireworks, Your Honor?'

'Once or twice, yes. They're too loud, in my opinion.' As soon as the judge finished speaking, Apollo heard a tiny sound from Edgeworth. Apparently, he'd figured it out.

'Do you get it now, Your Honor? There's one thing that's been bugging me this entire time – why was there only one shot, when the murder weapon was fired twice? There is our answer! The first shot came before the bellboy went up to the roof! The victim was killed' - he slammed on the bench – '-during the firework display! No-one would have noticed a gunshot while fireworks were going off!'

'Ingenious!' the judge yelled. 'I recall Detective Skye mentioning that in her testimony, but that possibility completely passed me by.'

The court gallery spoke all at once, and Apollo could only make out a few comments.

'That red kid, he's crazy, but he might be right there.'

'The prosecutor doesn't look happy.' Apollo looked across at Edgeworth. He had his arms crossed, and was tapping his finger in apparent annoyance.

'And just what is your basis for this scenario? I hear an argument based on conjecture. I certainly don't hear a court case.'

'Prosecutor, weren't you listening? I said I intended to present a scenario, not concrete proof of what happened. That comes later.' He was smiling again. Things finally felt like they were going his way for the first time in the game.

'…Then go on. The victim was killed while the fireworks were going off. What next?'

'The killer then decided to frame someone else for the murder, and chose the bellboy. They wrote a note for the bellboy, telling him to come up to the roof at 11pm. That gave the killer time to get away, and to finish their preparations. Then, they pulled off the Magatama and placed the rest of the necklace on the sign, to make it look as if there had been a struggle. The only reason I can think of for this would be as a last resort. If the worst happened, and the real killer was identified, he would point to the necklace as evidence of a struggle, and plead self-defense.' These observations were coming very easily now. Just a little longer, and he held the entire case in his hands.

'The killer hid the Magatama in the kitchen, where the bellboy often was. He left the note where the bellboy would see it, to trick him into 'discovering' the body. By 11pm, the killer had gotten away from the scene, using the bellboy as the decoy.' He spoke calmly, and the court was left in silence when he had finished.

'And your evidence? Is it time yet?' Edgeworth asked. It was more of a demand than a question.

'Yes. Tell me what you don't understand, and I'll show you the evidence you love so much.' He didn't want to give the prosecution the chance to disprove him, but he believed in his client. He knew there was a way forward.

'Very well. Let's start from the top of the list, shall we? I cannot disagree with your reason as to why DeMasque III would go to the roof,' he said, trying not to smirk, 'but what happened to him afterward?'

'He and Atmey fought on the roof. He ran when the fight was over.'

'…And then the victim appeared, and Atmey killed her? Why would he do that?'

'…That doesn't work, does it.' Apollo scratched his head. 'Unless… unless, Atmey killed the victim, and _then_ DeMasque ran away! He ran so he wouldn't be suspected, and left without what he came for! The fact that the screwdriver was never moved proves this!'

'But Luke Atmey testified that he and the thief fought in the bellboy's room. And his mask was found there. They didn't fight on the roof!'

'Prosecutor, the mask was found in the bellboy's room, true. However! It was found in the filing cabinet! It didn't just come off during the fight, someone actually placed it in there! The bellboy would have no reason to hide the mask, even if he was the killer. The only one who would hide it would be someone who wanted to hide the fact that DeMasque III was there at all!'

'Fine. So where does that leave us, Justice? We have a scenario which does not have one solid piece of evidence in its favour, and you seem to want to indict Mr Atmey for some reason I cannot understand. Is there any evidence, at all, that shows how Atmey could have killed her?'

'There were gloveprints found on the Magatama and the pistol, correct? Luke Atmey wears gloves, Prosecutor, not just the bellboy. Furthermore, the note that was found was written by him! He knew the victim was on the roof, lying dead! He knew because he killed her!'

'…Here is my last question, Justice. Is there any reason why Atmey would want to kill Pearl Fey? What was his motive?'

Apollo had a long think. Edgeworth was right about the evidence. Various things pointed toward what he believed was true, but it didn't hold enough sway. The only thing that could win the trial for him would be-

'Your Honor! The defense requests one last piece of testimony from Luke Atmey, as to his motive!'

The judge called the now-cheering court to order. 'I grant a five-minute recess. Prosecutor, prepare Mr Atmey's testimony in that time.'

Apollo spent the recess sat in the defendant lobby, hoping for the best. That was all he could do. Atmey's testimony was all he had. If there was nothing wrong with it, all of his evidence would be deemed circumstantial and it would all end in a guilty. The last thing he had to do was prove a motive. If he could get a confession, that would be it. But how do you get a confession, without strong evidence? He was sat cross-legged on the sofa, playing with his bracelet, staring at a spot on the wall until it went out of focus. The bailiff could have sworn that the guy never moved once, never blinked once. In truth, his mind was whirring while the rest of him just shut down. Finding a motive for Atmey would be tough. After five minutes, the bailiff called him back in.

'Order! Order!' the judge called, bringing his gavel down. 'Prosecutor Edgeworth, is Mr Atmey ready to testify?'

'Yes, Your Honor. He will testify about his motive for killing the victim, or rather his lack thereof. Luke Atmey, take the stand!'

The court bailiffs escorted him into the courtroom. Apollo had already seen him once that day, but now he saw another side to the man, something more sinister.

'Greetings once again, gentlemen.' He polished his monocle. 'I have already testified three times during this trial. What you want me to say, exactly, is beyond me.'

'Tell us why you had no reason to kill the victim!' Apollo could almost swear to a silent 'please' after the judge's demand. It was already getting to 4pm now, the trial had gone on long enough. He knew the judge would sooner issue a guilty verdict than prolong the trial another day, and braced himself.

'…If you insist, Sir Judge.' Atmey was smiling.

'There really is nothing more for me to add to my previous testimonies. I have only the time for DeMasque III! All other matters are insignificant. Why would I, Luke Atmey, have any motive for murdering the girl? The answer is simple, of course. There is no possible motive the defense can prove! Is this trial worth continuing, Sir Judge?'

'Mr Atmey! Leave your comments about courtroom procedure to the people qualified to do so, please! Mr Justice, your cross-examination. I do not need to remind you what happens if nothing new is gained from calling this witness.' Apollo nodded in understanding.

'Mr Atmey, if you think this is a waste of the court's time, let's cut to the chase. You are absolutely right about one thing.'

'And that is?'

'That the defense cannot prove a motive.' Edgeworth 'hmph'ed again.

'Then why am I here, sir?'

'Because I need to see what you think of my theory.' Here goes nothing. 'The defense cannot prove a motive. There is only one reason for this. Luke Atmey, no proof of motive exists… because you had no motive!'

The resulting silence was deafening. The judge looked around awkwardly, Edgeworth simply stared incredulously. Out of nowhere, Atmey laughed manically.

'Then I ask again, why am I here if I could not have killed her?'

'I said you had no motive, not that you couldn't have killed her.'

'Justice, care to decode your incoherent rambling for the court?' Edgeworth demanded impatiently.

'Your Honor, we have all made a faulty assumption. Namely, that the victim was 'murdered', in the conventional sense.'

'And what are you suggesting instead? That Pearl Fey is alive?'

'No. I'm suggesting that her death… was an accident, Your Honor.' As soon as he said it, the final details of the case fitted together in his head.

'An accident?' the judge asked. Atmey was suddenly panicking. His nervous habit had kicked in again. Apollo tried to calm his own nerves, despite his shaking hands.

'Your Honor, I can explain the events of that night in their entirety, with supporting evidence.' That was a bold claim to make, but he was confident.

'We know that at 9pm, on the night of the 12thApril, DeMasque III appeared at the Gatewater Hotel. He and Luke Atmey battled it out, but where? During the defense's investigation, the bellboy's room was found to be perfectly organised, with no signs of a fight. Mr Atmey already proved, in the previous trial, that he had been up to the roof the night of the murder, as evidenced by his knowledge of the decorations there. We also know that he went to the roof 'for the purpose of facing DeMasque III'. The thief's mask was disposed of in a similar way to the Magatama. Using these facts, we can ascertain what truly happened.'

'Then show us, Mr Justice!'

'Yes, Your Honor. At 9pm, the two fought on the roof of the hotel. Combining Mr Atmey's statements tells us the location of their fight. The murder weapon's owner is unidentifiable, but I propose that it actually belongs to Luke Atmey. He took it with him that night, though whether in the name of self-defense, or something more sinister, I cannot be sure. The glove marks on the gun also indicate this. The two met on the roof of the hotel, and they started fighting. They were equally matched, and Mr Atmey decided to turn the tables in his favour. He took out his gun. At that point, the victim came up in the lift! She had heard the fighting, being the only guest on the top floor at that time, and had come up to investigate. When she saw the men fighting, she ran over to stop them. She stood next to them, and tried to halt the fight.'

'Justice, wait. Show us,' asked Edgeworth, pointing to the overhead roof plans, 'just where each person was. I'm willing to hear you out if you can substantiate these wild claims.'

The thin line that was the top-down view of the hotel sign ran down the left side of the page. Apollo pointed to two spots by the right side of that line. If they stood where he indicated and faced each other, one of them would have had their back to the sign, one would have had their back to the lift. 'I think they were here. That's where the victim was found.'

'That doesn't make any sense, Justice. The victim was shot in the left side of the head. If she went straight over to them from the lift, she couldn't have been shot from the side. She most likely couldn't have been shot at all; one of them had his back to her, and if the other man had shot – the one who _could_ have seen her – he would have hit the man he was fighting with first.'

'T-that's true.' Apollo reconsidered. He wasn't panicking now. Edgeworth seemed to be trying to help him out, rather than directly prove him wrong. Maybe Apollo had convinced him at last. 'Maybe it was like this.' He changed the position of the markers. Now, if they faced each other, they would have been parallel to the sign. 'Both of them could have seen her from the side.'

'Think about it. That still doesn't work. You say Atmey had the gun, yes? Wouldn't he have fired at DeMasque III rather than the victim?'

'They were mid-fight, Prosecutor. It's not hard to imagine that they both fought for the gun. Whoever had it had a decided advantage, after all. Maybe they fought over it, and-' Apollo stopped, and turned to Atmey. 'Witness, do you know the real identity of DeMasque III?'

'If I did, Mr Attorney, do you think he would still be at large?'

'I'll take that as a no.' He turned back to face Edgeworth. 'I know what happened. I'm sure of it.'

'Then tell us.'

'Atmey and the thief were standing here, as the markers currently indicate. Ms Fey, the victim, was standing right by them, facing the sign. Yet, had she been shot at that moment, it would have hit her from the front. So, turn it around!'

'You mean the two that were fighting were facing a different way?'

'No, Your Honor, I mean that the victim was facing a different way. During the fight, she turned to her right, and was shot in the left side of her head.'

'Then let's raise the obvious question, Mr Justice – why would she turn away from a fight if she went up there to investigate it?'

'In the same situation, anyone would most likely have done the same. Mr Atmey, you just told us that you don't know the true identity of DeMasque III. Therefore, if you were to fight him, one of your aims would be to unmask him, no?'

'Urk!' Atmey's fingers were twitching. Apollo took that as a sign that he was right.

'Your Honor! During their fight, what if Atmey managed to unmask the thief? He pulled off the mask, and threw it away so he could carry on fighting. In fact, he threw it like this.' He threw the mask in an overhand throw to Edgeworth, who either was expecting it or had incredibly good reflexes, who caught it in one hand without so much as a blink. 'Overhand, forward. Of course, Atmey's throw 'forward' would be to the 'right' for the victim. ' He pointed to the markers again. He knew this was wild conjecture, but the judge let him continue.

'And?' the judge asked.

'He threw it to the side, and the victim turned her head to follow it. Now, that moment would be the biggest threat to DeMasque III – his identity was clear for all to see. Naturally, that would be the moment when he fought back the hardest. The victim had her head turned, DeMasque III grabbed for the gun-'

'Mr Attorney, stop.' Atmey was surprisingly forceful, even when speaking quietly. 'I hate to say this, but I must bow to an intellect superior to my own.'

'You mean, the defense is right?' The judge sounded surprised. Apollo tried not to take offense to it.

'I did indeed engage in glorious battle with my nemesis upon that fateful night! And what a battle it was! What he lacks in mental prowess, he makes up for in brute strength! I knew I needed something extra, hence the pistol. I brought it for self-defense. When I took it out during our fight, he attempted to take it from me. That was when that charming girl ran up to us. I remember her from that case a few years ago. The Ace Apprentice herself, grown up. She tried to stop us, even trying to get in between us. That was when I thought – if I can unmask him now, he'll have nowhere to run! She will be able to help identify who he is! I pulled his mask off with one hand while he was trying to grab for the gun, and threw it to the side. The coward turned his head at the last moment, and I never actually saw his face. Even now, after all this, I am no closer to finding who he is. He paused for a second! I thought he was going to run, but he made one last attempt at taking the pistol before he made his escape! I honestly cannot remember who had their finger on the trigger when the shot was fired. Ms Fey had her head turned, she never knew who killed her. The gun was in both of our hands. Either one of us could be found guilty of this tragic crime.'

The court remained in respectful silence while Atmey was speaking. The whole time, he had his head slightly bowed. This all seemed slightly out of character to Apollo. The guy was a murderer, why was he so hung up about this? Klavier had said he wanted to reform his ways, but was that really the reason?

'So we are to take this as a confession?' Edgeworth confirmed, solemnly.

'… Now I have said all this, may I ask the defense one last question?' Atmey requested. Apollo turned to him. 'Everything you have said so far is, for the most part, conjecture. I could easily say that everything I just said was a lie, and you would have no way to prove that it was, in fact, the truth.'

'Mr Atmey, may I ask _you_ a question?' Apollo smiled, ever so softly. Not in a conceited way, but kindly. 'Are you Luke Atmey, Ace Detective?'

'Why yes, sir.' Atmey stood taller, and smiled proudly.

'Forever dedicated to defeating the DeMasque line?'

'What did I say at the very beginning of this trial? That is my life's purpose.'

'Then you must accept your guilt, right here, right now. That's the only way you can fulfil that purpose.' Apollo couldn't believe he was genuinely feeling sympathy toward a double-murderer.

'How so, Sir Attorney?'

'If you accept your guilt, and acknowledge that the version of events that you just gave is true, the police will have to find DeMasque III. Not as a thief, but as a murder suspect. You'll go down, but you'll take him with you.' Apollo held his hand out toward Atmey, palm up. 'What are you going to do? Go back out there, know that no-one will ever really trust you again, and spend your life fighting this guy? Or turn yourself in as one of the killers in this case, and defeat him once and for all?'

Atmey paused for a few seconds, deep in thought.

'Sir Judge! I confess, here and now, to the accidental murder of Pearl Fey on the night of the 12th April on the roof of the Gatewater Hotel. DeMasque III was my accomplice, you could say. Find him, and try us both as the killers.'

Apollo turned to Edgeworth. 'Prosecutor?'

Edgeworth nodded. 'We will put out an increased priority arrest warrant immediately.'

'Good.' The judge seemed happy. 'Well then, let's put this case behind us and bring an end to this horrible affair. In light of the new evidence and testimony presented at this retrial, the court hereby finds the defendant, the bellboy of the Gatewater Hotel, not guilty of murder. That is all. Court is adjourned!' The judge banged his gavel. Apollo had never been so glad to hear that sound in his life, and never would be again. Atmey was led away in handcuffs, and Apollo and Edgeworth left the courtroom.

Apollo managed to make it to the potted plant in the defendant lobby before he collapsed, dropping everything he was carrying and ending up sat on the sofa. Everything seemed to have given way for a second, and he was shaking. It was 6pm, and the game was over. It had begun on the 14th, when Trucy and Kristoph were kidnapped, and today was the 17th. Counting the 14th, that was four days total that they'd been gone. De Killer would stay true to his word now. Apollo relaxed for the first time in four days, leaned back, and closed his eyes. All he could hear was the sound of his own breathing. He rubbed his eyes, and opened them again when the door opened. Edgeworth walked in. This time, he had no qualms about offering a handshake. Apollo shook his hand weakly, suddenly the most tired he had ever been.

'That was one of the most passionate defenses I have ever seen, Justice. … Thank you. Thank you for finding her killer.' It looked like Edgeworth found showing genuine gratitude difficult.

'Mr Wright put you up to this, didn't he.' Statement, not a question.

'…Yes. He knew Prosecutor Gavin was busy with another case, so requested that I take his place. I owed him a favour.' That was all the confirmation he needed. Phoenix Wright was, undoubtedly, the client of de Killer. He laughed a tiny, humourless laugh.

'Edgeworth, with all due respect, I hope I never have to go up against you again. That was tense enough for one lifetime.'

The prosecutor smirked and looked away. 'Likewise,' he said simply. He left the lobby. Not thirty seconds had passed before the transceiver interrupted the relative peace. Apollo had been expecting it.

'About time you called.'

'Congratulations, Mr Justice. You kept your end of the bargain, as it were. As I said, your items will be returned to you.'

'Can I ask now? Just to be sure, who was your client?' He wasn't expecting an answer.

'Mr Justice, my client confidentiality is everlasting. Now, go to Prosecutor Gavin's office and wait. Do not expect any further correspondence from me, though you may keep this transceiver as a memento if you wish. Wait there, and they will be returned by morning at the least.'

'I was about to say 'thank you', but that would imply that I'm grateful for what you've put all of us through the last few days. Do you have any idea how many people have been affected by this case?'

'I had nothing to do with the murder, I cannot comment there. I catered to my client's wishes. I did my duty. That is all.' The transceiver went dead, and static crackled out of the speakers for what Apollo hoped was the last time. Their story wasn't over, he knew that much. There was still that last question that had to be answered.

Just who was the client? Phoenix, said Apollo's mind. Nice and simple, he was the only one it could have been. And yet, said another part of Apollo's mind. And yet it doesn't ring true. He picked up his things, and unsteadily headed outside for his bike. That could wait for a while. Right now, he had a reunion to attend. He couldn't resist a smile as he pedalled. Even in the wake of the destruction the case had caused for so many people, he was happy. Happy that it was over, and happy that he would see the Gavin brothers again. But most of all, he was happy to finally see his sister again after what felt like forever.


	11. Chapter 11

****This is it, guys. In 2-4, the case was pretty much over with the verdict, but there's a question I needed to answer. You can probably guess what it is. I already mentioned the possibility of leaving it open, but I didn't want to. Because I would consider it lazy writing if someone else did it. There are some things I'm leaving open, but I'll talk about them in the authors notes bit. If you've made it this far with the story and haven't stopped reading out of boredom, then congratulations and thank you! All that's left is the epilogue and A/N now. I'm off to re-read and type my final thoughts now, expect both the epilogue and notes soon! You guys know the drill by now with the whole 'review pls' thing, I like to hear feedback on how good/bad my story is. Enjoy this chapter!

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**Chapter 11**

Apollo was in a daze as he entered the Prosecutor's Office. His post-trial inner euphoria was not reflected in the slightest on the outside. He just stared straight ahead, looking but not seeing. He completely forgot about the lift, and slowly headed up countless flights of stairs to Klavier's office.

He took the key out of his pocket, and unlocked the door. It swung open, but Apollo stood in the doorway for a few seconds. He had been expecting them to be there already, and the silence that greeted him was sudden. He stepped inside, and closed the door behind him. Klavier's favourite chair was inviting him, and he fell backwards onto it. He spun around in it a few times.

He was confusing himself with his own thoughts. He was completely convinced that Phoenix was the client. Equally, he was convinced that he was wrong. A few times over the course of the day, he thought he'd had it solved. But there was nothing solid to suggest that it was – or wasn't – him. It was all pure conjecture. He tried not to think about it until the others got there.

The next two hours were very long. More than once, he stood up and paced around the room, being nosy and looking through Klavier's things. He picked up one of his guitars, tried to remember one or two chords he had learned as a child, and put it back down when he remembered how bad he was. Mostly he just sat and stared out of the big window, watching the world go by as he was stuck there waiting. He knew de Killer wouldn't just trot them up to the Prosecutor's Office, but he still looked out for them. The more time went by, the more his unease grew. He was trusting an assassin to stay true to his word. Was that really a good idea? He was fighting sleep, tired out from the stress of the day.

At around 8:30pm, the door opened. Apollo had nodded off in Klavier's chair. The sound of the door awoke him, and he was facing the window. Night was falling once again. He spun around.

Standing in the doorway was Rockin' Prosecutor Klavier Gavin. Except he was about as far away from rockin' as it was possible to be. He had only gone the day before, but it looked and felt as if it had been far longer. In that time, Apollo had finished the game and found the evidence he needed to indict the true killer, all in the space of 24 hours. Klavier looked like he'd been involved in twenty consecutive bar room brawls. Bruises covered his face. He had left his jacket behind in the office, but his shirt looked far too big for him now, like someone had dressed a child in adult clothes. He wasn't standing up quite straight, and had all his weight on one leg. He looked like a zombie. There was no flicker of emotion, no movement, nothing – he just stared straight at Apollo, eyes dead. Apollo didn't know what to say.

'What…' That was the best he could come up with. He stood up and walked over, standing a metre away. He didn't dare to get any closer, for fear of hurting the guy.

'Nice to see you too, Justice.'

'What?'

Klavier smiled. It wasn't his normal rocker smile. It looked like it hurt. ''A cornered fox is more deadly than a jackal', so they say. But when it's cornered by three rather large thugs, it's in trouble.'

'Three?'

'Yesterday, in the corridor. I'm no pushover, Justice, but I have my limits. That's how all this happened.' He gestured toward his face with one hand, wincing slightly. Apollo didn't respond. 'How did the trial go?' His voice was hoarse.

'Good. I got a 'not guilty', in the end. Wasn't exactly easy. I'll save the explanation for later, when- Hey, where are the other two? De Killer said you were all coming here.'

'When they knocked me out yesterday, I woke up in some grey room. No idea where. I figured it was de Killer, and I listened out for Kristoph and the young Fräulein. They weren't kept in the same place as I was. That's all I can tell you.'

'They'll be here soon, anyway.' Apollo smiled. 'It's all over now. It feels like it's been forever.'

Klavier slowly made his way to his chair, and sat down gratefully. 'I've missed you, old girl.' He patted the arm. 'Do we wait?' Apollo sat on the floor near him, and nodded.

They waited together, not saying a word. The night got darker, and the streets got quieter, but Apollo's nerves wouldn't calm down. Finally, after all this time… He reminded himself that it had only been a few days since all this had started, but they'd gone through so much. Now he was ready to claim his reward. They'd earned their miracle, deserved their happy ending. Apollo couldn't help but smile as time passed on. Klavier sat perfectly still, eyes closed, deep in thought.

Just after midnight, there were footsteps. They didn't _hear _them, because the walls of Klavier's office were soundproofed, but they _felt_ them. They started off lightly, but grew heavier and heavier until Apollo could feel them shaking the floor. The rhythm told him that there were at least two people running down the corridor toward them. He was facing away from the door, and looked up at a grinning Klavier as the knock came. He stood up, ran over to the door and threw it open.

On the other side were two people. A blond man in a blue suit he easily recognised, and a girl in a cape he had been longing to see again for what felt like years. She stepped toward him shakily, her face gaunt from her days of imprisonment. Kristoph just smiled at them.

'Polly?' she murmured, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Apollo didn't have time to say a word before she threw her arms around him in the tightest hug he had ever known. He quickly did the same for her. He was scared that if he let go, she would be taken again. They stayed that way for two minutes. Trucy was crying, convulsing slightly every now and again. Klavier sat quietly and watched them. Apollo just kept whispering her name again and again, trying to convince himself that she really _was_ there, in the flesh, and that he really wasn't dreaming. He kept blinking, not knowing why he felt the need to. Klavier smiled to himself.

Kristoph stepped politely past them, toward his brother. He held his hand out.

'Good to see you again, Klavier.' Klavier just laughed, and they shook hands. They watched the more emotional reunion going on by the door. Trucy and Apollo eventually broke apart, Apollo keeping his hands on Trucy's shoulders. They kept trying to speak to each other, but neither could find the right words. Eventually, they just settled on awkward smiles. They turned back to the other two in the room.

When they were all done, all four of them sat on the floor. Klavier leaned against his chair. Trucy was to his left, playing with her cape. Apollo was next. He kept flattening his hair and letting it ping back up. Kristoph sat between him and Klavier, completing the square they were sitting in. Apollo couldn't help but feel that he was back in elementary school.

'I think a little explanation is in order.' Klavier turned to Apollo. 'Hit it, Herr Forehead!'

'Why does it have to be me?'

'You know the most about it. You're the only one here who hasn't been kidnapped at some point.' Klavier's logic was faultless.

'Where do I even start with this?'

'From the top. I never start a song at the end.' Klavier pointed his finger-gun at Apollo. 'The floor is yours, Justice.'

Apollo cleared his throat, and began. He started at de Killer's first call, talked about his and Klavier's investigation into the case, the evidence they found, their time in court and the truth behind the death of Pearl Fey. He spoke of de Killer and his everlasting duty to his client, the rule change, and Klavier's kidnapping. He spoke of Phoenix Wright, of the advice he gave and of Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth whom he had come to fear. The three people listening in rapt attention never interrupted him, and he spoke for what, to him, felt like hours. They nodded in understanding, and Klavier laughed a few times as he told the tale of their trials. He wasn't sure how to end his story.

'De Killer called and said you'd get here… and here we are now.' Apollo stopped speaking. He felt like he should carry on for the sake of it, because he was used to it by now, but there was nothing else left to say. The room fell to silence.

'…There's one more thing we need to talk about. Now we're all on the same page, I think it's time we did this properly.' Klavier looked serious. Apollo knew what he was talking about. It was the one thing he hadn't mentioned in his explanation.

'What's that?' Trucy asked.

'De Killer's client. The Prosecutor's Office knows of him, and he always works to the wishes of his clients. Someone asked him to set this game up. We need to know who, before we can truly close the book.'

'And how do you propose we work this out?' Kristoph asked. He was remarkably unfazed by any of this. Then again, he was the 'Coolest Defense in the West.' Who knew how much this guy could take without cracking, Apollo thought.

Apollo went over to Klavier's desk, picked up the victim's autopsy report and sat back down in his place. He turned the paper over, clicked his pen and wrote the list of names again. He didn't mention the fact that this was a repeat performance. He had never mentioned his initial suspicions to anyone, not even Klavier. He kept it to himself now. It was impossible for Phoenix to be the client. However much he thought it over, it was totally impossible.

He finished writing. The list was identical to his first, except this time he added his own name.

'Here are the names of everyone involved with this, one way or another. It has to be one of these people.'

'We cross 'em off, we find our client!' Trucy seemed far too happy, considering what had happened to her. Apollo guessed she was keeping a brave face.

'Let's start with those associated with the case.' One by one, they talked about each name. They came to the exact same conclusions as Apollo had done only the day before. The victim was dead, the bellboy wouldn't have any reason to do this, Atmey worked alone, DeMasque III worked alone, and Klavier crossed the final name off.

'The delightful Ms Skye would hurl those snacks of hers at us if she wanted to show her dislike.'

'So we can rule out everyone involved with the case. I see,' said Kristoph, sitting back slightly and steepling his fingers at his lips. 'So this must be someone who knows us personally, rather than someone on the 'outside', as it were.'

'Looks like it,' Klavier agreed. Apollo had never seen Klavier and Kristoph work together like this, and he couldn't help but smile.

'What about this side then?' Apollo asked, pointing to 'Game'. He picked up the pen.

'I think we can cross off our names, and Daddy's,' Trucy suggested. Apollo stayed still, not looking her in the eye.

'That means De Killer is his own client. That can't be right,' Klavier pointed out.

'But that means…' Trucy couldn't finish her sentence.

'Looks like our client is closer to home than we thought.' A mental block had formed in Apollo's mind. 'So just who is it?'

'We can discount the four of us. We can definitely discount de Killer. That leaves Phoenix Wright.' Kristoph spoke calmly.

'No!' Trucy and Apollo yelled in unison.

'Look at the facts, Justice. It has to be him. However hard the truth is to face, it is our duty to face it.'

'Daddy would never-'

'Very well, let's try it your way. We rule out Wright, we rule out the four of us, we rule out de Killer. There's no-one else left on the list. In that case, it is someone completely foreign to our game. Which is the more likely option?' Kristoph sat back, letting his words take effect.

'…You said it again, Kristoph.' Klavier had paused a few seconds after Kristoph finished speaking. It looked like he didn't want to speak, but he carried on anyway. ''The four of us.' Why are you so quick to discount us four?'

'You seriously think one of the people in this room was behind all this?'

'Not necessarily. I'm not throwing accusations around, but we need hard evidence, ja?'

'…You are correct. Let us review this list, then.'

Apollo looked back down. He didn't want to know where this was going, but he had to see this through. He began to speak.

'Me and Klavier were in this room when de Killer called the first time. He had to ask his client about the rule change, so he cut off his end and called back a few minutes later. If me or Klavier was the client, he would have had to contact one of us in that time.' Klavier nodded. 'It can't have been either of us.' He crossed off their names.

'It wasn't de Killer, we know that.' Trucy was in serious mode. 'He was already well-known to the Prosecutor's Office as an assassin that works for a client, he wouldn't have done this himself.' They all agreed, and Apollo crossed off the name.

'Miss Trucy and I were kidnapped ourselves, so we couldn't have been the clients.' Kristoph pointed to Phoenix's name. 'And here we are again.'

'That doesn't make any sense!' Apollo lost his temper. 'Give me one good reason Mr Wright would have his own daughter kidnapped!'

'Proof of motive is hardly necessary when there is only one possible culprit, Justice.'

'…There's more than one, Kristoph. I think I see it now.' Klavier wasn't looking happy. He had paused again. 'We're back to the evidence. There's a name we've dismissed prematurely, I feel.'

'Whose?'

'Yours.'

Silence enveloped the office again, as Kristoph stared accusingly at Klavier.

'And why, may I ask, would I have any reason to put myself through this?'

'Again, I'm not accusing anyone, just keeping our options open.'

Apollo and Trucy caught each other's eyes. They silently agreed to stay quiet for now.

'In that case, we are left with my name and Wright's. Now, tell me why you think I'm still a suspect, Klavier.'

'What proof do you have that you were kidnapped? All we had was a call on the transceiver, and we heard your voice on the other end. That was all.'

'But, Prosecutor Gavin! He was there, with me!' Trucy yelled out.

'When, Fräulein? When exactly was he with you?'

'Right at the beginning, when de Killer called you the first time.'

'And after that?'

'He was taken away. I was locked in this dark room.'

'So you have no idea where he was after that call.'

'…No.' She didn't want to say it, but Klavier was right. Kristoph had no proof of any wrongdoing against him. He had no injuries, and didn't look nearly as gaunt as Trucy did. No-one could question her innocence even if they _wanted_ to believe that a 15-year old was capable of such a thing, all they had to do was take one look at her.

'You seem to want to blame me for this. So why are you so sure it wasn't Wright?' Kristoph asked. Apollo stepped in for his turn.

'He had no reason to. True, he knew the victim. He could have played this game with us to make sure the right verdict was reached. But, if that was the case, all he had to do was talk to Klavier and I. He could have followed the investigation.' He was glad to be able to prove himself wrong, but not happy to see the inevitable conclusion slowly becoming clearer before his eyes.

'And what if, for example, he has a personal grudge against the three of us?' Kristoph indicated himself, Apollo and Klavier. 'He was disbarred seven years ago, remember. Brother dearest here was prosecuting that trial, I'm guilty by association and you've taken his place in the courts, Justice. His daughter was collateral damage. He wanted revenge against us. That is the truth.'

'…Give it up, Kristoph.' Klavier spoke resignedly. He knew, thought Apollo. He must have had a feeling it was going to end this way since they'd written that list of names.

'What?'

'If you carry on, you're going to come out with more and more nonsense theories. We'll be here all night. You may as well give up now.'

'…You really want to accuse me, don't you?' Kristoph's glare was icy, and even Klavier recoiled slightly.

'Then prove us wrong!' Apollo spoke up. 'It was you, wasn't it? You set this up. You put us through this nightmare!'

'So we return to the issue of motive. Why would I do this?'

''Proof of motive is hardly necessary when there is only one possible culprit, Justice.'' Apollo repeated what Kristoph had said to him. 'We all know it wasn't Mr Wright. It's time you admitted the truth.'

Kristoph stayed silent while Apollo was speaking. When he had finished, he stood up. He was a tall man at the best of times, and now they were all sitting down he towered over them. None of them moved as he slowly walked to the door. Apollo had his back to it again, and heard it click shut. Another click sounded behind them, but a different kind this time. He turned around instantly.

Kristoph was glaring at them all, his eyes wild. The corner of his mouth was twitching in rage, and he seemed to be smiling. The look in his eyes made the smile all the more jarring. Apollo had never seen so much hatred in one man's expression, and never would again.

They weren't looking at his face for very long. They were looking in his right hand. He had pulled a revolver on them, and was aiming it at them. Exactly who he was aiming for, Apollo couldn't tell. All three of them stared down the barrel, not knowing who its first intended victim was.

'I'm sorry it's had to come to this.' Kristoph was still speaking calmly. Apollo suspected this was his backup plan. If all went wrong, this was the ace up his sleeve.

'We can take this as a confession, then?' Klavier was in the weakest position. He could hardly walk in his state, never mind run for it. He still found the guts to talk back.

'Make what you will of this. I'm saying nothing.'

'You won't get away with this!' Trucy yelled. Apollo's mind was doing all the wrong things – coming up with witty comments when it should have been thinking of an escape plan. Right now, he was counting the number of movies he had seen where Trucy's exact words had been used. The number of times it actually worked was depressingly low.

'I know my own brother's office. This room is soundproofed. I could quite easily kill you all, close the door behind me and no-one would be any the wiser as to what had occurred.'

An involuntary noise came from Apollo. It started in his throat, a cross between a battle cry and a groan that confused even him. Kristoph merely smiled.

'Growl at me all you like, Justice. It won't help you now. You won the game I presented to you –here is your final reward.'

Kristoph's finger tensed on the trigger. Apollo closed his eyes and tensed in response. There would be three shots, one of them meant for him. He hoped it would be fast. He had given up on trying to get out of their predicament. One move now, and the gun would sing.

There were three loud bangs in succession. Apollo heard the third, and knew he had been hit. All three of them had. He had heard that pain from a gunshot like this took a few seconds to kick in, and he waited for it in sudden mental calm. There was nothing he could do now. The realisation that his fate was totally out of his hands now gave him a twisted kind of peace. It was when he became aware of his own breathing that he began to question what was happening.

A scream brought him out of his tranquil. He turned to the door, where the sound had come from. Kristoph was lying in a heap on the floor, clutching madly at his shoulder and yelling. A deep crimson stain was spreading. Apollo glanced quickly at Trucy and Klavier. They were unharmed and confused, too.

He looked back to the door. Standing in the doorway was the man in the green trenchcoat. The name 'Gumshoe' took a while to surface. He was holding his police-issue pistol in both shaking hands, and now he holstered it. He shouted down the hallway for backup, and a team of police stormed in, crowded around Kristoph and were gone within two minutes, dragging him forcibly with them. He left a red trail in his wake, and a final scream that echoed in the hallway.

Apollo's rational thought returned, just as Gumshoe stepped into the office. Apollo checked again that Trucy and Klavier weren't hurt, then spoke. What he said didn't make a lot of sense.

'But, he… you… what, uhh…' Words were coming out, words that fit together in his head but that his voice wasn't translating properly at all. He slumped forward, suddenly aware that he was out of breath.

'What just happened?' Trucy seemed to be the only one of the three that could speak.

'Mr Wright, pal. He and Prosecutor Edgeworth called after the trial, said something was up with Justice here. They told me to keep an eye on you. I stationed some of the guys in the buildings opposite and I stayed in here, on the floor above. They told me what was going on. When he pulled the gun, I got down here as fast as I could.' Apollo noticed the dent in the wall from the door handle, and the footprint that had been left behind where Gumshoe had kicked down the door. That was where the three gunshot sounds had come from – one from Gumshoe's almighty kick, one from the door hitting the wall and a final cry from his gun.

'Thank you, Detective.' Klavier sounded fairly normal, all things considered, but Apollo doubted he was as perfectly calm on the inside. 'Will he be alright?'

'I got him in the shoulder. It won't be fatal, I just had to incapacitate him quickly. He was a few seconds away from… you know, sir.' Gumshoe paused for a few seconds. 'Why, though? Why would he do that?'

'That's what we've been asking him for the last twenty minutes.' Apollo finally found his voice. The three on the floor shared a look. Gumshoe was about to ask what it meant, but decided against it. Now wasn't the time to ask. He would find out someday. He left them to calm down, and followed his men down to the precinct.

An hour later, two were left in the office. Phoenix had showed up not long after Gumshoe had left. Trucy had thrown herself at him, proved to him that she really _was _okay, honest, by pulling out Mr Hat, and had left with him for home. She had taken two steps toward the door before falling backward in a faint. Phoenix caught her, and easily picked her up in his arms. He turned back.

'I want an explanation. I pieced some of it together, but you need to tell me everything sometime soon.'

Apollo promised to tell the truth once Trucy had recovered fully, and Phoenix left, carrying Trucy home.

Apollo himself was staring out of the window now. Klavier had pushed himself over in his chair, and was staring too. They were both exhausted, but there was still one question that had to be answered for full closure.

'Why?' Klavier asked, quietly. He was only ever quiet when he was at the highest levels of sincerity.

'We won't ever know, unless he tells us himself.'

'We'll have to ask him, someday.'

'You think he'll tell us, after all this?'

'He hasn't got anything to lose. His case will likely go to trial sometime this week. I intend to prosecute it.'

'Somehow, I doubt I'll be defending. …Klavier?'

'Mmm?'

'Here. You'll need this. It helped me. I'm not sure how, but it did.' Apollo handed Klavier his prosecutor's badge back. Klavier took it, surprised. 'I went through your jacket when you disappeared. … Sorry. I'm not sure why I took it, just…' Apollo stopped speaking when Klavier waved a dismissive hand.

'If it helped to have that thing around, who am I to complain?'

'What's he going to be tried for, anyway?' Apollo tried to get their conversation back on track.

'Two counts of kidnapping, three of attempted murder. The kidnapping wasn't him, strictly speaking, but he is just as responsible as de Killer.'

'I just wish I could cross-examine him, is all.'

'Don't worry. You can stand as special guest behind the prosecutor's bench. We'll get him on the witness stand, and you can 'bracelet' your way through everything you need. Whatever it takes, we will get the truth out of him.'

'…Thank you.'

The two attorneys watched the night go by. Neither wanted to disturb the peace they had rightfully earned. Not after the frantic days and nights they had been through together. The traffic outside never stopped, but it slowed. The world was calming with them. The day had been intensely dramatic, the night even more so, but now came peace.

'Guilty Love' was what it took to break the air. Apollo reached over to Klavier's desk, picked up the ringing phone and handed it to its owner.

'Who's that?' Klavier asked the voice at the other end.

'It's Gumshoe, sir. I'm calling about Kristoph Gavin.' The name sent a chill through the air.

'What about him?'

'He's at the Detention Centre in a stable condition. He wants to talk to you, sirs.'

'Seriously?' Apollo and Klavier both spoke at once.

'Yep. Says he wants the truth known before his trial. How fast can you get here?'

Klavier looked to Apollo expectantly. Apollo nodded.

'Justice will be coming alone, Detective. As soon as possible.'

'…I understand. I'll tell him.'

Apollo straightened up his tie. Even after all this, he was still going to meet with his boss. Klavier spoke to him before he left.

'Justice. I don't know what to expect from him.'

'Me neither. I'll just let him talk. Let him start the conversation, I guess.'

'Ask him why. Ask him what we did. Why he resorted to this.'

'I will.' Apollo stood in the doorway of the office, paused for a few seconds, debating whether or not to turn back and say something else. Then he left wordlessly. Klavier turned back to the window.

He was too high up to see the details, but he could just about make out a tiny red dot emerging from the building. It headed toward the Detention Centre. It was starting to rain. The red dot didn't slow. Klavier was smiling to himself. He wished he could have gone, but he would have slowed Apollo down. In his state, it would have been the other side of Christmas before he left the Prosecutor's Offices.

The rain picked up in intensity, and began to hammer on the glass. Klavier watched one drop in particular, making its way down the window, picking its way around other drops. He was busy thinking about Kristoph. He told himself not to wonder just what was going on in the guy's head, but he couldn't stop himself. He had to know. Still, Apollo would be back fairly soon. He would soon fill him in. In the meantime, all he could do was wait.

The droplets navigating their way downward were forming patterns that he couldn't quite work out. Now, he found himself reminiscing. He had read the reports of Apollo's first trial the day after the fact. He had read of this rookie attorney accusing his brother of murder. He had hated him. But when he saw the man in court for the first time, saw how much he cared about what he was doing, he had to admit he respected the guy. Being a defense attorney was a tough job, he thought. There was so much against him, but he still carried on out of duty.

He laughed to himself. This never would have happened before the game. The Rockin' Prosecutor would never have sat here, deep in thought about a defense attorney he had once despised. Now, he thought of his bravery in facing everything, and ending it alone. In facing the impossible odds, and defeating them. Sure, he was thinking about his brother, and what had changed him into the man he had seen tonight. But his thoughts were with the defense attorney he had come to respect as an equal; with the man in the red he had come to trust so much.


	12. Epilogue

I have nothing to say here that I haven't already said. This is finished now, and I never thought I'd manage it for three reasons. Firstly, I thought (and still do, I guess) that I lacked skill. Secondly, that I would completely lose the motivation within days. Third, that other things would get in the way. Yet here we are. Thank you so much for staying along all this time, guys. You're all wonderful :D As ever, reviews greatly accepted and appreciated. Once again, thank you :D

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**Epilogue**

On the 19th April, one week after the murder of Pearl Fey on the roof of the Gatewater Hotel, two men walked into the Detention Centre. The men were friends, after a fashion. They had been friends as children, and had eventually reunited as adults. It had been some time since they had last spoken properly to each other.

They entered the building, and asked to speak to a certain detective about a certain prisoner. The detective appeared, and they asked their question.

'Can we see the footage?' The first man of the two to speak had a blue beanie hat on. The detective didn't recognise him at all, except as 'the guy from that weird agency.'

'What footage is that, pal?'

'The surveillance from a certain visit, Detective. You know which we mean.' The second man of the two was wearing a distinctive cravat. The detective couldn't have mistaken his identity.

'Sure thing, sir. Are you sure you want this guy to see it, too?' The detective nodded toward the man in the hat.

'Absolutely. He is a good friend of mine, actually.'

'Does he have the authority, though? I can't show him the footage if he's just some guy.'

'You could ask him yourself, Detective.' The man in the cravat smiled, like he had a secret he wasn't about to tell. The detective did as he was told.

'Sir, I will have to ask for proof of your authority before I can allow you to see the surveillance data.' The detective used the fanciest words he could think of, and the man in the hat complied.

'Sure thing.' The man took his hat off, and his spiky hair stuck out, free from its beanie imprisonment. He pulled a flyer out of his hoodie pocket. 'I'm one of the people represented by this agency.'

'That's not enough, sir. I'm sorry, but I can't-'

'Detective.' The man in the cravat interrupted him, wagging his finger. 'Please, at the bottom of the page. There is a list of names, the names of the people the Anything Agency represents.'

The detective duly read the names, and instantly looked up from the page. The man now holding his hat smiled. 'Am I allowed to watch now?'

The detective couldn't speak for shock. He waved his arms wildly, which acted a signal for another officer to show up. The two men were shown through to the viewing room.

The man with the hat had replaced his beanie, and spoke while they were waiting for the footage to begin playing. 'Do you know who this guy is?' he asked, waving his hand toward the blank screen.

'Indeed. There isn't a prosecutor who doesn't.'

'Guess he has made a name for himself.'

'In your place. 'The Coolest Defense in the West' certainly earned his name. He was the best in his profession. Of course, there were… rumours.'

'Rumours?'

'Forgery, naturally.'

The man in the hat paused. 'Best attorney in his field, accused of forgery?'

'Hardly unique, is it?' The two men laughed slightly. Not because they found it funny, just because history seemed to repeat itself so fully. The footage began playing, and the men went quiet.

On the screen was a shot of the visitor's room. It had been recorded from one side of the glass screen, and the only person in view had his back to the camera. He was a long-haired blond man, in prison attire. He was on screen alone for a minute or so. He kept putting a hand to his shoulder. Eventually the door on the other side of the glass opened, and another man stepped in. This one had spiky hair pointing straight up, a red waistcoat and an unusual bracelet. He sat down opposite the blond man, screen separating them, and folded his arms on the long counter in front of him, in silence. The blond man spoke first.

'You have questions.'

'Apparently, you have answers.'

'Which answers do you want?'

'All of them.'

'Then I'll choose what the questions are. My favourite nail polish is Ariadoney.' The blond man sounded like he was smiling. The other wasn't.

'You know exactly what I mean, Gavin.'

'So I'm even being denied a 'mister' in front of my name now?'

'You don't deserve my respect anymore.' The man in red wasn't giving in easily, it seemed.

'I have reasons for everything I do, Justice.'

'Then why?' The man in red leaned forward, letting his hands fall onto the counter. His bracelet made a sound as it hit the hard surface. 'I'm giving you a chance to explain what you did. Take it.'

'…Before I do, I have a question for you. What is the worst that can happen to me now?' The blond man asked the question lazily, as if he already knew the answer.

'You get found guilty of kidnapping and attempted murder, get the death penalty and you get executed.' There was a surprising harshness to the words of the man in red.

'And the best-case scenario?'

'You get found guilty of kidnapping and attempted murder, get a prison sentence and you serve it.'

'No possibility of a not guilty, then? That's hardly what I would call a fair trial.'

'Your brother's prosecuting.'

'…And you won't be defending.'

'He knows what you did. He'll make sure you pay for it.'

The blond man paused before saying anything else. 'Of course, motive will come into question.'

'Yes.' The man in red looked resolute.

'…Ask it.'

'...Fine.' The man in red cleared his throat. 'Then we'll do it by the book. Kristoph Gavin, you called in the help of the assassin known as de Killer to force myself and Prosecutor Klavier Gavin to face off in court. For this end, you had de Killer kidnap Trucy Wright, my sister, and faked your own disappearance. You then had your own brother kidnapped two days later. I have to ask you. Why? Why did you do all this?'

'Revenge.' The man in red looked confused. The two men watching the recorded footage shared a look.

'Revenge for what?'

'You remember your first trial, Justice? You accused me. Nothing came of it, in the end. One extra trump card, and you would have made it. But that trial ruined me. So long as there was doubt, my reputation was tarnished. Who would hire a defense attorney who could potentially be a murderer?'

'That was my fault. Why get Trucy and your brother involved?'

'You are correct. For my fall from grace, I blame you and you alone.' The blond man was sitting motionless, and yet both men watching could feel the coldness emanating from his image in the screen. They couldn't see his face, but the man in red could. He didn't flinch.

'So why didn't you just kill me, instead of getting them involved?' He seemed remarkably direct about the concept.

'This was more fun. I was watching you, you know. I watched you and Klavier 'dance', if you like.'

'Stop dodging the question.'

'Think of the possible outcomes, Justice.'

'According to your initial rules, either I could have lost or I could have won.'

'Exactly.' The blond man nodded condescendingly.

'If I lost, de Killer would have kept his word as far as Trucy was concerned. If I won, you would have 'died', and I would have blamed myself. Then we changed the rules. So, if I lost, both of the possible outcomes would have happened. I assume you never expected me to win.' The man in the hat couldn't help smiling. He himself was good at working things out as he said them, and the man in red seemed to be similarly skilled.

'Perfect. Any more questions?'

'Why are you telling me this?'

'I have nothing else to lose. It's not as if the whole world won't know of Kristoph Gavin's fall in due course. I may as well speak the truth before it gets distorted by time.'

'That's true.' The man in red moved to stand up. 'One more question, for the road. What you just said. Is that the honest truth?'

'You have my word. I have spoken the entire truth as I know it.'

'So that's all this was? You wanted to make me suffer for a mistake I made a year ago now?'

'I needed time to plan my strategy.'

'This was planned over a year?'

The blond man sat forward. 'I don't want to spell everything out, but there's no reason why I shouldn't. Think back to the 14th. You and Klavier had just been informed of the conditions of the game. Myself and Trucy were under lock and key. Who, then, would you turn to for help?'

The man in red said nothing. The two watching exchanged another look, the man in the beanie looking particularly alarmed. The blond man continued.

'I waited for the right case to come along. One that would turn him against you. All he had to do was think that you were going along the wrong track. You were supposed to believe him. Then you were supposed to lose. That is why I waited for so long.'

'Why did you want him involved in this?'

'He helped you, in your first trial.'

'So you turned him against me, and kidnapped his daughter? Were you the one that got him disbarred?' The man in the hat tensed slightly.

'I never said that. Still, seeing that once-perfect partnership fall into nothing …It was fun, Justice.' The blond man smiled amiably.

'You seriously enjoyed this, didn't you.' The man in red didn't sound too surprised. He just sounded tired.

'A year's work came to fruition. Of course I enjoyed myself. I don't like having to say this, but you performed admirably. I'm surprised you got half as far as you did.'

'…You should have known.' The voice of the man in red lowered an entire octave.

'Known what?'

'That I wouldn't rest until I found the truth. Even if the great Phoenix Wright himself wasn't on my side.' The man in the hat remained silent, but the man in the cravat saw the proud smile working its way up his face.

'You really are Wright's man, aren't you?'

The man in red stood up, and turned his back as he left the room. 'I got what I came for. That's all I wanted to know. Goodbye, Mr Gavin.' He left the room without looking back.

The door closed, and the sound echoed. The blond man put a hand to his face, and pushed his glasses up. A moment later, he stood up, straightened out his prison jumpsuit and left the room too. The timestamp of the footage showed up – it had started recording on the 18th April, at 02:15am – and then the screen faded to black. The two men watching stayed still.

When he left the Detention Centre, Apollo began the walk back to Klavier's office. He had gotten the answers he wanted. He wasn't satisfied, not at all. He had no doubt that Kristoph was telling the truth, but he had expected something more… glamorous. Still, it was done with now. The game was over. They could all move on. Once again, he let his mind wander. Before too long, as far as he knew, he was back outside the Prosecutor's Office. He wearily took the lift up to Klavier's floor. Finally, sleep was beginning to call him. Not yet, he thought. One more thing. Let me do this first.

He turned the handle of the door. Klavier was in his chair, watching the rain. Apollo had walked to the Detention Centre and back in it, but it was only now that he noticed it for the first time. He sat on the floor, and Klavier turned to face him expectantly. He began to speak, transcribing his conversation as best as he could from memory. When he had finished, he joined Klavier by the window.

'It's over now,' he said, simply.

Klavier made an 'mmm' sound.

'Still got something to say?' Apollo asked.

'I'm wondering what Wright is thinking now. His old friend was killed, another friend turned against him, he has no idea why yet. Should we tell him about all this?'

'I think we should. I think he deserves to know. _He_ dragged Mr Wright into it, I think he should know why.'

'If he doesn't work it out on his own first.'

Apollo watched the rain. A singularly uninteresting phenomenon usually, now it entranced him. It staged its attack on the city in a random, unorganised fashion. He smiled when an inner part of his mind compared it to his own defense style. Still, it had worked. He had pulled through, even without Klavier there to throw the final trial in his favour. He wondered what Phoenix Wright would have done, had he been in the same place. Apollo was just thankful that it had ended the way it did. There had been more than enough room for something to go wrong. Somehow, against every law of probability, he had won out.

The people on the outside carried on with their lives, oblivious to the recent panic in the lives of those inside the office. Sooner or later, those people would need defending. Apollo vowed to be there when they did. Everyone deserved justice, after all – and who else to turn to but Justice?

The two men in the viewing room turned to each other.

'It was de Killer's work?' the man in the cravat asked. 'Again?'

'I guess, in a way, I passed the torch to him.' The man in the hat nodded toward the screen on 'him'. 'He's going to hit his fair share of troubles, isn't he? Even facing off against de Killer...'

'Trouble seems to be part and parcel of being a defense attorney. I don't know how you stuck it for three years.' He paused. 'Wright… what's stopping you now? Why not retake the bar exam? I'd be happy to face you again. I always wondered why you quit.'

'I didn't quit, Edgeworth. I presented forged evidence.' The man in the cravat looked shocked, and stayed silent. 'I didn't request the forgery, though. I was tricked into showing it. But on the records, I am the one who forged that evidence. As long as that's there, I can't stand in court.' The man in the hat looked downcast.

'I could… do something about that.' The man in the cravat smiled. 'A favour for a friend.'

The man in the hat looked earnestly at his friend, and thought before answering. 'I'd like to take you up on that. …I don't know how to repay you.'

'Just make sure you find them, Wright. Find the person that brought you down. Then we'll call it even.'

The two men left the Detention Centre, and walked back to the Anything Agency. On the way, they reminisced. Past cases, old triumphs, old defeats. They hadn't spoken properly in seven years, and took the opportunity now. At the entrance to the Agency, the man in the cravat stopped.

'This is where we part ways, Wright.'

'For now.'

'Indeed. I'll let you know when the time comes.'

'Thank you.'

'Thank _you_, Wright. Thank you for calling me back halfway across the world to deal with this case. I've learned a thing or two from it.'

'Like what?'

'If the master is defeated, the student fights on in his place. He is 'Wright's man', after all.' The man in the cravat smiled.

The man in the hat held his hand out. 'Edgeworth.' They shook hands, and the man in the cravat left.

The man in the hat looked at the door. The sign to the side of the building proclaimed that it was the 'Wright Anything Agency.' He couldn't say that the past seven years hadn't been good to him. Even if he was stuck pretending to play piano, he had gained so much more. Both a daughter, and an apprentice of sorts. A man who had picked up where he himself had left off, and done it brilliantly. Now, rather than watch from the side-lines, like a parent at their child's sports day, he was going to run alongside. Two attorneys, who cared only for justice. And they would be matched, perfectly, by two prosecutors who knew that the truth was all that mattered in a court of law.

The man in the hat looked at the street outside his office for a few seconds before entering. It was silent. Just the way he wanted it for some reflecting time. Better make a start on the Chief's old books, he thought. He put a hand to his chest, and gently held the lapel of his hoodie. He remembered what had once been there, what had once meant so much, that he had lost all those years ago. Now, he was going to get it back. Nothing was going to stop him now.

He turned to the side, and saw the Gatewater Hotel. The place where Pearls had been killed, and so close to the place Mia had been taken from them all. Pearls' death would start him again on the road to the truth he had strayed so far from. He wasn't going to let her death be in vain. Hers, or Mia's. He would fight on, in honor of them. 'Murder Manor' had claimed them both, in a way. The man in the hat closed his eyes. The hotel had a sad tale to tell anyone who would listen. He had been there for both chapters of it. He promised there would not be a third.

He patted the empty space on his lapel once more, and smiled to himself. The Ace Attorney would return, someday soon, stronger than ever before. He had a lot to do. He knew he would need help. The bar exam was hardly a walk in the park. But he had Trucy, and Apollo, and Klavier, and Edgeworth. With them by his side, nothing could hold him back. He would see it through. He had waited seven years. He had earned his happy ending.

That night at the Borscht Bowl Club, Phoenix Wright played the piano. Something he had done for a while by now. But tonight, for the first time in seven years, he played it with a smile.


	13. Author's Notes

I probably should have got this over with at the beginning of the story, but all characters and stuff I've used are copyright Capcom and whoever else. I don't own any of this, I'm just writing 'cause I like it. I profit in no way from my writing, save the knowledge that I've actually finished something I started.

* * *

Oh, it's done. I'm glad, because I finished it and the story is complete. In a way, I'm sad. This has taken the best part of a month to do, and I've enjoyed every second. I even enjoyed the planning process. There are literally hundreds of things I could write about here, but I won't because this will end up being longer than the entire story. So yeah, this is the super-condensed version of my post-story thoughts. There's a few more questions I need to talk about. I've left a few loose ends on purpose, and I'm going to mention them here. If I could pick a credits theme it would be 'Reminiscence: The Bitter Taste of Truth' from T&T. Anyway, those questions I mentioned.

So **who the hell is DeMasque III?** I honestly don't know. I never intended for that to be a relevant thing. He was just there to fight with Atmey and create plot. He could even be a she for all I know. This is where your opinion as a reader is just as valid as my opinion as a writer. It's likely that it was someone from AAI, considering that that's where DeMasque II came into play. If I were to pick a successor from that cast, barring Kay, I'd go with Palaeno. He'd just throw coupons at someone if they caught him.  
Point being, I never thought about this. I probably should have, just for closure's sake. It's not particularly important, unless I did a sequel or something about him/her. Speaking of...

So **will there be a sequel?** This one was terrible enough, so no. There's just no point continuing an AU story, once the AU relevance has disappeared. Although I guess things are back to status quo, in a manner of speaking, Kristoph's in jail now... The ending of the epilogue might seem like a sequel hook, but it's not meant to be. I just starting writing it, and didn't stop.  
So chances are, no. You guys are lucky.

So **who actually got Phoenix disbarred?** This one I did think about. Not to the point where I actually have a name, but I do have a theory. The events of Phoenix's final trial came into play slightly more than I intended them to. I said at the start that Kristoph wasn't the one that did it, and I stand by that. If he had, 4-4 would have happened normally. My theory right now is Valant Gramarye. wut seriously. Yes, he wanted Zak to be found guilty so he could inherit Magnifi's magic. So he forged evidence to hand to Zak's attorney, sent an anonymous tip-off to Klavier and that was all. Don't treat that as a 'word of god' confirmation or anything, again, your theory is as good as mine. I only think that he would be the next most likely after Kristoph.

Chapter 1 was an intro that got out of hand. It was supposed to be 'what would have happened if the forged ace wasn't made?' Considering that it was Phoenix that made it, it technically should still have existed regardless of Kristoph's role, but PLOT. It's boring to read, I know. This is my first proper story (I wrote a 'serious' fic on the Kink Meme, but that was 19 pages long. This behemoth, in comparison, is 77.) and I know it could be a lot better. This first chapter is exactly how not to write a story, it's just so bland.

The 'Apollo ran into a guy' thing that I go on about in Chapter 2 was an abandoned foreshadowing attempt. That was going to be DeMasque III, knowing that he was going to eventually be tried for murder and wanting to request a defense. I scrapped it because I wanted to do the 'Apollo tells Phoenix who the victim is' scene, and didn't want his reaction to happen off-screen.

The trial sequences were the one thing I needed to get right. I can't comment myself on how well they went (or not, as the case may be). This was where the 'write to the game music' thing came in. I had the cross-examination theme playing when characters were testifying, and the perceive theme when their nervous habit kicked in. It really helped to get me in the right mood for writing that specific bit. I also discovered that if I wear my bandana in a certain way, I can stick up the two ends to make Apollo hair-spikes. This makes no difference to the story at all, it just felt quite cool.

Characters definitely suffered here. It would have worked fine without Ema, I honestly don't know why I included her. The judge could have been better, he wasn't nearly as eccentric as he normally is but I think he picked up slightly toward the end. Atmey is hard to write for. Also, I made a mistake with him - he should have been saying 'Mr Lawyer' rather than 'Mr Attorney.' Lamiroir is the one that calls Apollo 'Mr Attorney', my bad D:

The actual case itself underwent a lot of changes between my head-story and what you guys read. It was originally going to be in a park, and feature a lot of OCs. It would have been one of those cases like 2-2; 'there were two in the room and one died. Murderer's pretty obvious to figure out' sort of thing. I won't say too much about the initial case, though, I might use it for a future story if I can make it work.

This sounds terribly vain of me, but 'Screwdriver of Fate' made me giggle every time I wrote it.

There's a few things here that I planned ahead for, but some that just happened on their own. Pretty much all the 'character development' (if you can call it that) falls into the second category. The actual case was completely pre-planned. It had to be, I'd be kind of screwed if something case-breaking came up right at the end. I'm currently trying not to spot too many gaping logic-holes.

There were three ideas that I had a long time ago that found their way into this fic. The first was as a result of me trying to figure out what my theoretical 'perfect case' would be, which would be my favourite case with my favourite characters. I came up with a combination of 2-4 and the AJ cast. The second thing was Apollo vs Edgeworth in court. Phoenix had gone up against Klavier, I wanted to see it the other way around, as it were. The third thing was the death of Pearl, and how much it would mess people up. Had this been centered around the Phoenix arc characters, I would have made more of a deal of it.

Ohmahgawd, the client thing. Apollo thinking that it was Phoenix was an unscripted thing, and I rolled with it. I knew it would be Kristoph before I started writing. I'm honestly not pleased with his motive. It's so painfully obvious. But the focus of the story was Apollo and Klavier dealing with the 2-4 conditions, and the bellboy as the client would have been too obvious.

I'm quite proud of how Gumshoe turned out. He was awesome to write for. 'I said it was airtight, _pal_' is possibly my favourite line of the story. I also like how he reacts to seeing Edgeworth. /vanity

I rewrote Chapter 11 three times. The first was supposed to be a 'big explain-a-mo-bob' according to my notes. It was Apollo, Klavier, Trucy, Kristoph, Phoenix and Edgeworth talking about their experiences. I planned it out a little, but the night I did that I didn't get any sleep because I was thinking about how I could even begin to write everyone's reactions to everything. So I scrapped that idea. The second attempt was Apollo and Klavier figuring out who the client was before the other two got there. It involved a 'Kristoph telling Apollo that Trucy is dead' scene (which she wouldn't have been. I couldn't write Pearl and Trucy both dying in the same story), which led to a stand-off at the Borscht Bowl Club. That felt ridiculous to type just now, and even stupider to read back once I'd actually finished writing the chapter. The third try is what you guys read.

The epilogue might seem weird in terms of focus, but I wanted to wrap up the story for Phoenix as well. I honestly don't know where the ending came from, I just kept writing and it felt right. Writing the last line of the epilogue was an awesome feeling of closure. The feeling as I finished it, sat back and realised that I'd actually finished this was incredible. Once I got to the chapter 6 mark, I wasn't sure I was going to be able to finish because the end seemed so far away. Now it's done, I can't quite believe it.

Oh dear, I never realise just how much I can ramble. I wasn't expecting perfection with my first story, and I know this is far from it. Now I've done this, I understand places where I went wrong, and I'll work on that for the next one. Thanks for sticking with this guys, I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did.


End file.
